You Know You Trust Your Partner
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: ...when you ask him to go to the local pharmacy to buy you pads. Yes, THOSE kind of pads. - A series of one-shots depicting Soul and Maka's trust in one another
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater or any other product/media mentioned in this work of fiction. I make no profit from this.

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_... when you ask him to go to the local pharmacy to buy you menstrual pads._

* * *

It's the most horrible feeling in the world when you're on your _time of the month_, and the only thing that could make this day any better is missing from your bathroom cabinet.

_This can't be happening! _Maka cried, paling several shades when she saw the absorbent pads missing from their regular spot under the sink. She grabbed the empty _Always _bag, nearly shaking in rage when she saw the cat scratches on the sides. _Blair! _Maka threw the bag in the trashcan in a fit of anger.

Now what?

She was a mess and there was no way Maka could run all the way to the pharmacy to buy the pads without staining _something._

"Oh, no..." Maka groaned. She was usually on top of these things – when her cycle came, she _always _had a small box of those wonderful pads ready for use. She supposed it wasn't her negligence that got her trapped in this terrible situation but the fact that she hadn't counted Blair as a reason she might run out of them one day.

The cat could _usually _magically fix herself!

"Hey!" Soul pounded on the door, groggily. "You finished in there? We're gonna' be late for school if you don't hurry up!"

_Soul! _Maka exclaimed mentally, finding a pillar of light in this otherwise dark situation. _Soul can—! _She stopped and let that idea stew in her head for a moment, while Soul rubbed his eye out and yawned on the other side of the door.

She _could _simply ask Soul to make a quick run to the pharmacy to buy her some menstrual pads...

...and face humiliation when Soul high-fived Black Star later on and told him he knew when she's the most unreasonable now.

Or she _could not _tell Soul, make the quick run to the pharmacy herself, but simultaneously ruin a good pair of panties...

_I really hope I don't regret this. _Maka thought, mustering all of her courage. "Uh... Soul?"

"What?"

"Could you..." Maka faltered, then swallowed a deep breath and soldiered on. "I mean, could you go down to the pharmacy and buy me some... pads?" She cringed at her own wording – _that _could have gone down a whole lot more better than it had.

Soul furrowed his brows at her request. Pads? The hell was that? A dorky rip-off of 'Jaws'? "Can't you just go do it yourself?"

Maka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He wasn't getting it! Did she have to be terribly _blatant _with everything she said? She could only image how awkward it would be between them once he realized what she was asking for. "If I _could _then don't you think I would have done it already?" She snapped.

"I'll do it after I shower!" Soul dismissed, to her utter frustration.

"You can't! I need them _now_!" Maka insisted, some panic trickling into her words. "Soul, I need _pads_!"

"Pa—!" His eyes widened in realization. "_Oh_..."

Maka dropped her face in her palms when all she was met with was silence, embarrassment flooding her cheeks red.

This was a bad idea from the start – she cursed her period, which always made her impatient and hasty.

"Y-you know what?" Maka began, weakly. "I'll just...I'll just do it myself. Hold up..." Maka eyed the roll of toilet paper. It would have to do for now, as she began to fold up a piece into neat squares when Soul's decidedly calmer voice drifted from the other side of the door.

"What kind?"

Maka chewed on her bottom lip, answering meekly: "_Always_ – there are a lot of them but make sure to get the ones with the flexi-wings. Oh, and get them for moderate flow."

His brows rose. "Flex-_what_?"

"It's so - so it doesn't _move _out of place when I walk!" Maka scowled when she heard a snort. "You better not be laughing, Soul Eater!"

He just scoffed. "I'm not laughing! How will I know which ones are the flexi-wing ones?"

"They're the ones with the picture of wings, Soul! It says flexi-wings on the bag!"

"What about the flow thing?"

"It should say on the bottom, right." Maka instructed. "Don't get the nightly ones!"

"...What?"

"Ugh, just get the regular ones! Moderate _is_ regular! Is says so on the bag – just read the damn _bag_, Soul!" Maka groaned, frustrated with him already.

"Alright, alright, I get it! Chill! I'll be back in a couple of minutes! Geez..." He walked into his room and stuck his feet in his shoes, tossing on a plain jacket and sticking his wallet in his pockets.

Maka listened as the front door opened and shut and she was left in silence once more.

That had gone... a lot better than she expected.

She expected some stifled laughter or teasing but, then again, Maka thought, Soul had become decidedly more mature over the past few years. At least he had only been asking questions regarding the type of pads to get and not cracking mean jokes about it.

She supposed being 'cool' now meant handling everything in stride and not causing trouble like he and Black Star did before, when they were younger.

A knock a few minutes later brought her back to her situation.

"Hey, these things are expensive! There's a whole bunch of them, too!... and they're _small_!"

Well, he was _almost_ mature.

"They're _supposed _to be small!"

"Yeah, but how's thing gonna' help if it's so small?"

"Soul, you moron!" Maka slapped a hand over her face. "They're _folded_!"

"Oh." That made sense.

"Just give them to me already!" Maka insisted, through her teeth. She was _so _not in the mood. Not until next week, maybe. She carefully leaned over and cracked the door open, snatching the bag from his hand and slamming the door shut again. She quickly tore the bag open and went on with the process she should have completed at least twenty minutes ago, all the while aware that Soul was standing patiently outside their shared bathroom.

Maka flushed the toilet and washed her hands thoroughly in the sink, fixing her hair up in their trademark pigtails before facing the door.

She flattened her skirt and took a breath.

Here went nothing.

Maka opened the door, avoiding Soul's gaze as she made her way to the kitchen to start breakfast.

Before he shut the door to begin his shower, Maka softly said: "Thanks, Soul..."

He grinned slightly at the stubborn embarrassment in her words. "No problem," and shut the door behind him.

He paused mid-way taking his shirt off and glanced into the trashcan curiously.

"Oh, I get it now." He saw the soft, crinkly, pale green paper the pad had been packed in. Maka had crumpled it but it had opened up to reveal something that _looked _like it was meant for female use. "_That's_ what she meant by folded."

He was _glad _he wasn't a girl – he saw ones called tampons and cringed when he read the instructions on the side of the box.

Shoving that up there did _not _sound pleasant.

* * *

**A.N: **I will be having fun with this in the future. And, as of right now, I am taking requests for this collection! So, if you have an idea you want to see in this collection, feel free to send me a message or you can tell me through a review! :D

Man, so many stories... I have _so _much free time.

_Scarlett._


	2. Chapter 2

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

* * *

_... when he holds your hair back as you throw up your dinner._

* * *

She shouldn't have eaten those BBQ ribs.

She had known, from the first bite she had taken, that something was going to give in her stomach once the digestion process began, but she continued eating them for the sake of not letting the plate go to waste.

Black Star had devoured two whole racks of ribs and she wondered if he, too, was getting these bouts of terrible nausea.

Everyone else had eaten burgers or fries and had come out fine but she just _had _to get the BBQ ribs!

Maka clutched her stomach, as she rolled on her side on her bed. She had been subdued for most of the period spent hanging out with her friends due to the on-off stomach cramps. Tsubaki had been worried enough to go buy her some stomach medication, but the box of pills sat untouched on her desk. Maka was very tempted to strand up and swallow two of those pills to get rid of the abdominal cramps, but she feared such a radical movement would result in her dinner coming out of her mouth.

And she was wrong - shifting to her side had resulted in that.

She slapped a hand over her mouth and shot up in bed, her stomach unable to take any more of the awful food. She threw the sheets off and just about sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and throwing up her dinner.

She always hated this part.

It was strange: she usually had a resilient stomach and, at most, she'd have a stomach ache that would go away with time. But, she knew, when she got sick, she got _sick_.

Her mother used to humor herself by saying that Maka always went full-out on everything she did – that, sadly, also included puking her guts out.

She heard the bathroom door creak open but it was lost to her in another retch, her throat burning with acid. Hands pulled her hair back and Maka was briefly grateful before another gurgle ran up her throat and into the bowl.

She hated getting sick.

Especially from the stomach.

Actually, she hated getting sick in general – it always delayed her plans and was, frankly, a nuisance to deal with.

Maka weakly slammed the lid down and flushed the toilet, resting her forehead against the rim of the lid to catch her breath. Her head was swimming and her stomach felt empty but she was feeling immensely better.

Not surprisingly, this was her favourite part of the whole process.

"Do you feel any better?" She heard Soul softly ask from behind her.

Maka nodded, not trusting her voice, and inhaled slowly through her mouth to quell whatever malicious illness still dwelled in her stomach. She was starting to feel bad again and Maka dreaded having another episode. She hadn't eaten _that_ much, just how much more did she have to throw up before she finally felt better?

"C'mon, let's get you to bed so you could rest—!"

"Nngh!" Maka shook her head, flipping the toilet lid back up and starting the cycle all over again.

She would never listen to Black Star ever again when it came to food – ever.

And, from this day forward, she hated ribs – BBQ one's especially.

And that restaurant needed to get sued or closed down or _something; _forget it, she just wasn't going to visit it even for a bottle of _soda _ever again!

She spat and flushed the toilet once more, her hands grasping for toilet paper to wipe her mouth. Soul handed her a strip silently and she shifted to lean her back against the bowl, holding the folded up squares against her mouth without a word.

She closed her eyes and hoped she wouldn't throw up again – her stomach had a faint ache that Maka knew would get worse if she didn't do something about it now.

"Where'd you put the medicine Tsubaki bought you?" Soul asked, kneeling in front of her. Maka miserably looked at him to find concerned red eyes staring back.

"Desk." She mumbled, dropping her head. She felt lightheaded. She heard him quickly leave and come back a few seconds later, shuffling out the white pills. She heard him faintly curse something under his breath before he left again, returning with a glass of water. He tossed the box of pills in the sink carelessly.

"Here, take them before you throw up again."

Maka looked up to see a glass of water and two pills on his hand. Her face paled but she took the glass and capsules. She stared at them for a few seconds, not wanting to drink anything at all, but she tossed a pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a mouthful of water.

"Nngghh...Oh, _god_..." Maka groaned, the water not going down well. She resisted a heave. This wasn't helping at all. She was probably going to vomit the first pill before she even got the second one down.

"Just one more to go, Maka, c'mon." Soul coaxed, helping her with the second dreadful pill until she swallowed it. She bit her lip to keep everything inside and tossed her head back against the lid, her arm over her eyes to keep the bright light of the bathroom from bothering her. "Better?"

"Hmm..." Maka hummed, drowsily. She wouldn't count her blessings just yet – her stomach had a nasty habit of deceiving her when she was this sick.

"Think you can walk back to your room or are you gonna' throw up again?"

Maka sat forward and slowly picked herself up off the cold tile of the bathroom, using Soul as leverage to keep her from toppling over. She didn't say anything as she made her way back to her room, the bathroom light going out behind her as Soul quietly herded her to her bed.

She fell on her bed, clutching her pillow to her face as he pulled the comforter from under her and covered her properly.

"You're not eating ribs again."

"No kidding." Maka muttered, shifting on her side carefully as her partner sat on the edge of her bed. She was starting to feel better, thankfully. "I wonder if Black Star's also sick..."

Soul smirked. "Food isn't gonna' bring that idiot down – he's _way_ too divine for that."

Maka smiled at his remark, mumbling: "Five bucks he won't be at school tomorrow because he's too stubborn to take the medicine."

"You're on, Maka."


	3. Chapter 3

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when he gives you potentially fatal motorcycle lessons._

* * *

"I-it's this one, right? I turn this one, or..."

"No! That's the accelerate—!"

"AHHHH!" Maka screams, as they lurch forward violently on the empty road. Soul reaches for the handle desperately, clutching the break and halting the bike abruptly before they crash into the curb.

Maka is thrown forward but Soul pulls her back around her waist in time, slamming her on his chest as she strives for breath. Her heart pounds in her chest, eyes wide with shock.

The bike vibrates under them, growling lowly as they both calm their racing hearts at the hastily avoided accident.

"Sorry..." Maka laughs breathlessly, swallowing her fear. "I forgot."

"Well, don't forget next time!" Soul snaps, relieved he decided to climb behind her after all to teach her from there. He pales at the thought of her being alone when this happened. What a hefty medical bill _that _would have caused! _And_ his precious bike would have gotten totally scratched up! "_This _is the break – you _always _keep your hand on the break! And _this _is the accelerator!" Soul stresses, pointing to the two handlebars. "You don't go crazy and twist it all the way! You take it _slow_! At least you remembered to step on the clutch this time!"

"I _know _that, Soul, but it's hard to concentrate when you're breathing down my neck!" Maka complains, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

"If I hadn't been behind you, you would've killed yourself." Soul points out flatly. "So, deal with it. C'mon, let's do this one more time – if Black Star learned how to ride a motorcycle, you _definitely _can!"

This reignites the burn to learn within Maka, and he sighs in relief when she positions herself again and readies herself for another go.

"Okay."

"You ready?"

Maka nods.

"Alright, easy..." Soul says, with baited breath. He leans toward her as she pushes forward with her foot to get the bike moving. "Not too fast – just take it easy, Maka..."

"I _know_..." She mumbles, forcing her concentration on the bike and not on the way his breath tickles the rim of her ear. "Just..." She twists the accelerator a little, jerkily moving forward. Against his wishes, she lifts her foot off the ground and steadies herself as she drives forward.

"Careful – fuck, Maka, don't move so much!" Soul shouts, his nerves on fire with how quickly they're gaining speed. "_Maka!_" It's not very healthy for his heart to be _this_ worried over her well-being but learning how to drive a motorcycle, especially on such abrasive terrain and without a helmet, calls for this type of stress on the incessantly pounding organ.

He wishes he hadn't sold the helmet so he had enough money to repaint the bike a sparkly orange – what use would having his bike painted such a cool color be if Maka wrecked it a couple of days after?

"Relax, Soul, I got it!" Maka rolls her eyes, with growing confidence. Momentum is loved by her in that moment. "Hey! I actually got it! I did it, Soul!" She laughs brightly, slowing down when she feels she's going too fast. This wasn't so hard, after all. "I know how to drive a motorcycle!"

Soul's nerves eventually calm when he notices she's less uncertain and gaining more control over the bike. She even has a good posture. A sigh escapes his lips and a crooked smile soon follows it. "Don't get too cocky – you're still a beginner."

"But I know how to drive a motorcycle now!" She laughs over her shoulder, dazzling him for a split second. She the prettiest when she smiles, especially with so much vigor.

"Eyes on the road...EYES ON THE ROAD!" He screams when his eyes catch movement in front of them, and she snaps her head back and veers to the right, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with an on-coming vehicle.

Maka giggles nervously. "Ahah, sorry..."

He's going to get gray hairs by the time he's twenty with this girl...

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" He hisses, tugging nastily on one of her pigtails. Maka can't elbow him because that would mean letting go of the handlebars, and that would most likely cause an accident. She swallows her urges instead, silently seething. "Rule number one is to _never _take your eyes off the road – especially if you're a beginner!" Soul viciously lectures, swallowing down his lunch in the process. He'd feel safer if _he_ were the one driving now. "Alright, park it so I could take us back. That's enough for today."

"Park...?" Maka nervously says, anger suddenly flushed from her system. "I-I can take us back, you know!"

"Just park it, Maka." Soul growls, not catching the waver in her words. "I don't wanna' have to go broke to have my bike refurbished if you wreck."

"I won't wreck!" Maka hotly insists.

Soul snorts. "Whatever – just park already."

"Um..."

"What now?"

"I sort of don't know how to _stop_..."

"What do you mean—?" Soul groans and smacks his forehead.

They never _did _go over how to stop once he managed to get her going...

Maybe this was why she made a better teacher than he did.


	4. Chapter 4

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when he rejects popularity for your sake._

* * *

He knows she hates it.

He can't have a quiet, easy, lunch with her anymore because there are always people who stop to say hi or pause him on their way to the cafeteria. There are girls who pull him aside to profess their love for him and there are guys who challenge him to games of basketball or arm wrestling.

She's stopped waiting for him so they could eat lunch together.

She's stopped waiting for him to head to their next class in-between periods.

And he has stopped meeting her at their usual meeting place after school because there are always people who want to hang out; chat; joke around; _stalk_ him...

He hates it.

She's stopped doing a lot of things because of his increased popularity at becoming a Deathscythe. The glory had been sweet at first, well-appreciated and boasted of, but now it has become a nuisance he could do without – especially since it's causing a rift between his meister and him.

He doesn't want to push her away.

He tried that once, when they were younger, but now he has accepted that he _needs_ her; she's the one who ruined his jaded plans, ruined his cynical habit of plotting out his life, plotting out _everything,_ down to the most useless task, and he doesn't want to lose the only, unpredictable, thing in his melancholic life.

He doesn't want to lose the last thing he has to achieving freedom from his past demons.

"Hey, Soul Eater, what's up dude?"

"You will be if you don't shut up" He snaps, crimson eyes fastened on Maka's retreating back.

"Soul Eater—!"

"Move it!"

"Soul, dude, guess what—?"

"Not now."

"Soul-kun! Would you have lunch with me—!"

"No."

"Soul—!"

"_Get out of my way!_" A vicious snarl crosses his face, frightening enough to choke in the greetings from those around him. He doesn't try to correct his poor mannerism – he pushes forward and ignores their wondrous whispers, as they watch him leave their sight without a backwards glance.

He picks up his pace, searching for his meister in the spacious lunch room.

He catches the bellow of white robes leaving through twin metal doors and he follows it, knowing no one else but Maka could make robes flutter like that.

It's a cool habit she has.

He finds her on a bench by Shibusen's library, taking bites of her sandwich as she holds a novel in her other hand. Occasionally, someone would pass by her but neither would bother to look away from their tasks to greet each other unlike how, if it were _him_ sitting on that bench, he'd greet them and start casual conversation with that person.

His heart weighs at how lonesome she appears, how lonely he has _left _her, sitting on that bench under a gloomy willow tree.

They haven't eaten lunch together in a long time.

Had he really been selfish enough to abandon her like this while he basked in the glory he obtained _due _to her? Death knew, literally, that if it weren't for Maka, he wouldn't be the icon he was now: a Deathscythe.

It was all because of her.

He sits beside her silently, stretching out his legs in front of him. He takes a deep breath. "Hey."

Maka doesn't look up from her novel. She takes another bite from her sandwich before answering. "Hey."

He shifts his eyes away from her, heaving a sigh. It was best to just pretend like the past couple of weeks hadn't happened. He isn't good with words and he doesn't need to anger her because of his clumsiness and cause that rift between them to worsen.

He can't lose her anymore than he already has.

"What's up?" Maka asks, taking a quick glance in his direction. "Why aren't you with your friends?" She lowers the book a little, showing him she was paying attention. "Did something happen?"

He frowns. It isn't cool that she thinks he'd only hang out with her because he has a problem: she's Maka, his meister and best friend, not his emotional trash bin. "Nothing's up – I can't hang out with my meister whenever I feel like it anymore? We used to do it all the time."

"But before you weren't a Deathscythe." Maka corrects, coolly. He nearly flinches at her detached tone. "You should go back with your friends if you have nothing to say to me. They're probably looking for you right now—!"

"They can look all they want, I'm not going back." Soul says simply, surprising her. "Just because you turned me into a Deathscythe doesn't mean I'm going to stop hanging out with you. That's not cool." He presses his lips together, sinking deeper into his seat. "...Sorry, for ditching you like this. That was _really_ uncool of me."

A small smile lifts the corners of her lips and she goes back to her novel, not reading a single word off the page as she answers: "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"No."

"Here – I don't want it." Maka says, pushing her tray to him. "I don't like ham."

Soul grins in relief. When Maka starts to share, that's when he _knows_ she's forgiven him. "What're you talking about? Ham is awesome." He takes the sandwich from the plate and bites into it, not realizing how hungry he really is until he's devouring it in a few short chomps.

"I only like pastrami – you know that!" Maka rolls her eyes, raising a brow when he's done with the sandwich in ten seconds flat. He pops open her carton of milk, taking a chug.

"You want some?" He offers, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"No, thanks." Maka wrinkles her nose at his bad table manners. To think he came from a renowned and wealthy family! "But I _do_ want the apple!" She snatches the apple off her plate and takes a bite out of it, directing her eyes back to the book.

"Do you think they're still serving food?" Soul asks suspiciously, rubbing his aching belly. He's not even _halfway _full! This is nothing compared to what he usually eats!

"Probably. We still have twenty minutes of lunch left." Maka says, checking the clock tower that looms past the rows of trees and brushes that decorates this half of the school. "You should go now if you want to get something good."

"Ugh, but it's so _far_..." Soul groans. "Maka, you do it."

"What? No way! You have two legs – do it yourself!"

"C'mon, your scythe is _hungry!_" Soul whines, pushing the money in her hand like a whiny little boy.

"My _scythe _can _fly _there to get his own food!" Maka flatly says, pushing the money back. "So if you're that hungry, go get it yourself. It's not that far, anyway, I don't know what you're whining about..."

"I can't fly without you." Soul blandly states, knowing it was true. It's only because of her Grigori-type soul that they were able to gain the ability to fly.

"Too bad."

"Maka...!"

"Hurry up – the line is probably closing now."

Soul groans and heaves himself up, cracking his back in the process. "You're such a witch – you'd chose your book over me! Not cool..."

"_I'm_ a witch now?" Maka raises an amused brow at his mock-offended face. "The only reason I'm choosing my book over you is because I _know_ you can go get lunch by yourself! You're just being lazy again! So, hurry up! I'll wait for you right here."

The last bit makes him pause to think for a second.

How long will she wait for him, exactly? He isn't the quickest to catch onto these subtle and delicate messages but he tries when he realizes his error...

"Whatever." Soul yawns, making his way to the cafeteria. He'll think about this stuff later – in his room, strumming a few strings on his guitar. "I'll be back in five."

"Mm..." Maka looks up from her book, to his retreating backside, and smiles.

He's back and she's glad.


	5. Chapter 5

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when she finds you piss-drunk on the sidewalk with your best friend and doesn't hurt either of you with a hazardous object– specifically a hardcover book._

* * *

Fear crept into her heart as she ran down the empty streets of Death City. The winding, cobblestone, roads that spread like a spiders web were frustrating to get around in. It was harder to get around the city at night, she realized, although the gaslamps offered dim light. But the moons light had bleached the stone white; gave the gas lamps that lit the streets an eerier yellow glow. The damp and cold atmosphere only served to heighten her worry for her weapon.

Tsubaki's words left her trembling in both rage and panic. She could not understand what had possessed him to act so rash but, then again, Soul had done many reckless and stupid things in his life for the sake of 'coolness'.

Maka wanted to strangle his 'cool' and shove it down his throat.

"_Black Star and Soul-kun must have left when I fell asleep! I'm sorry, Maka-chan, I didn't realize they left until you came over and woke me up! My best guess is they're heading to the bar Black Star often visits with Liz – I think it's called Red Moon."_

"Soul, you moron!" Maka spat under her breath, the underlining of shaky concern otherwise untraceable. She pulled her coat tighter over her body, glancing both ways down the lonesome street before taking a shady alley that she knew would lead her to the next street.

If she did not find him within the next few minutes, it would be the second hour Maka had been wandering the streets in search of her missing weapon.

He had promised to be back before nine.

It was midnight.

She had contacted Kid once the clock hit eleven and discovered they hadn't seen him all day. Then she had gone directly to Tsubaki's home, intent on showing Soul just what happened when you went back on your word, only to discover that the shadow weapon neither knew when they had slipped from under surveillance or where they had gone.

Her best guess had been the bar a few streets away from the assassins home, but Maka had gone and asked the bouncer at the door if he had seen a man – scratch that, _boy –_ with striking white hair and piercing red eyes. She had no luck, and had gone on her way feeling angrier than before.

Although she knew Soul was more than adequate enough in taking care of himself, she couldn't shake the anxiety she felt when he did not return before the set time. He always came back at the time he set for himself; _always_.

There had been many instances, usually when they had been younger, where he would snatch his keys from the table, grab his goggles from his desk, and take his motorcycle out for a ride in the outskirts of Death City without warning her. He drove to release steam, to think, to mull over a matter he couldn't resolve in the confinements of his room. He drove when he felt glum, when he was bored, or when he was troubled.

But he hadn't done that since they were fifteen.

And Soul was still too young to drink legally – especially in a bar, and _especially _with someone like Black Star as his spotter.

Lord Death _knew, _literally, that Black Star would first get himself mind-blowingly drunk before Soul even had a chance to finish his third beer.

"... gonna' have'ta march there! C'mon, Soul you...you pussy, get the fuck up! You barely had anythin' to _dri'k!_"

"Piss off! I had, like, eight beers and...what the hell was that tonic thing called?"

"_Vodka! _Get it right, damn it!"

"Four glasses of 'at! That's a lot, you dumbshit!"

"Not for _me _it isn't!"

"That's 'cause you're a freak!"

"Wrong, again! It's 'cause I'm _god_, that's why! So, bow down to me, disciple!"

"Shuddup, you're so loud! You're giving me a headache..."

"A _divine _headache!"

"Ugh..."

Maka's heart slowed, and color began to return to her cheeks at the sound of their slurred voices. Her panic calmed, and it was replaced with a boiling rage when she heard Black Star's obnoxious laughter echo down the street. Although Black Star was considerably more _mature _now that he was older, she assumed he reverted back to his bratty, thirteen-year-old, self when he became inebriated, and she didn't really mind.

It would be easier to beat him up if he had the mentally of a pre-teen.

She appeared before the two men silently, a shadow of heavy-set leather and rustling hair. Her dark green eyes, which seemed to look into their very souls, froze them in place until she straightened, and Soul recognized the uptight square of her shoulders.

"Maka?" Soul gasped.

"_Maka?_" Black Star repeated, squinting. A rough gust of wind tousled a gas-lamp and the swinging lamp cast a pillar of light across her face, revealing an almost expressionless face save for the fire that crackled in her eyes. "Holy shit! _Maka!_ You here to join us, too? Sweet! We were jus' gonna' head over to the Wolfs Den down by Saw Street!"

"No way, Black Star! Not my Maka! She ain't goin' in a bar, she's too young!" Soul shook his head gravely, looking dazed right after. He gripped Black Star's shoulder for support, his legs uncertain and weak, but Black Star proved to be a bad choice for support, since he tipped over – Soul going down with him.

"What the_ fuck!_ Watch where you're walkin', Soul!" Black Star shouted, struggling to stand up.

"You fell over _yourself_, asshole!" Soul snapped, his hand slipping from under him and causing him to fall on his back roughly. He rolled on his side, groaning at the way the ground spun. "I can't wa'k..." He mumbled, a snorting laugh climbing up his throat. "Black Star, dude, help me!" He whined, slipping again and slamming his chin on the stone this time.

Maka watched as Soul eventually gave up and rested on the cold ground, while Black Star laughed at his friends feebly attempts to stand. He tried to stand up himself, with some success. Maka had to admit, although she was sure Black Star had drunk more than Soul (or even the entire _bar_, why not?), the boy had an impressive tolerance for alcohol, as he was able to regain his balance and look more or less sober.

"Soo, you comin'?" Black Star leered, a ditzy grin on his face.

"I'm not going with you to some dirty bar – I'm here for Soul."

Black Star laughed. "Aye! Soul! Your girlfriends here to pick ya' up! Get the hell up!" He stumbled back and hit the back of his head against a lamppost. He burst out laughing again.

"What girlfriend?" Soul pipped, sounding honestly confused. "Aw, fuck, are those damn girls spreading rumors again? Son of a bitch, Maka's gonna' be _pissed!_"

"Nooo!" Black Star drawled, raising a finger. "Maka _is _your girl'iend – unless you're two-timing her. If you are, way to go, Soul! I didn't think you had it in ya'!" He cackled. "I thought cool guys didn't do cheating?"

"We _don't! _So, shuddup, retard, I'm not two-timing Maka! I'm not two-timing _anyone!_" Soul shouted from his place on the floor, now on his knees. "_I'm not goin' out with anyone!_" He screamed, his voice carrying down the lonely street.

"Shh, Soul! Keep your voice down! You'll wake the neighbors!" Maka hastily shushed, uncomfortable at the thought of Soul going out with someone. She, too, had heard of those rumors, and though she usually confronted him about them, she was relieved to know they really _had _been nothing but lies.

"But'chu wanna' go out wit' her, right?" Black Star tried nudging him but fell short a few feet so he gave up. Mischief lit his eyes, and he conspiratorially whispered: "Hey, hey Maka... Soul _likes_ you!"

Maka sputtered, unsure how to take that. Weren't drunks usually truthful...? Her face warmed even more.

"I don't like her! Maka, he's lying!" Soul shouted. He was still on his knees.

"My bad, my bad..." Black Star chortled, feeling weightless. He spun around the lamp with a loud laugh. "He _loves _ya'!"

Maka glared. "Black Star, shut up, you don't know what you're talking about—!"

"WAIT!" Soul bellowed, holding a hand up. Maka blinked as he sat back down on the floor, looking thoughtful. "My head...is _spinning_..." He closed his eyes, trying to center himself again.

Maka deflated.

Here she thought he was going to-to – she didn't know! _Acknowledge it _or deny it... or _something_.

"My head's spinnin', too." Black Star agreed, gravely. By this time, Soul was once again trying to stand up on his own. "...I think we both need another beer—!"

"How about _no_?" Maka snapped, quick to walk to Soul's side when he tumbled violently to the side from his attempt at standing. She caught him before he seriously injured his head against a lamppost. "Soul, you're coming back home with me and sleeping it off! I don't care if you want to go with Black Star: it's late, we have school tomorrow, and you were supposed to be back home almost three hours ago!"

"Wha'? No way, what time is it?" Soul said, alarmed.

"It's about to be twelve thirty!"

"Holy crap...I thought it was eight!"

Black Star grinned: "If you want it to be eight, it _is_ eight, man! C'mon, Maka, let Soul live a little! Cut his leash off for a few more hours – we still gotta' hit the strip club after this!"

Maka threw a scornful look at Black Star, who merely grinned like a little boy hiding something from the teacher. "_Soul_ is coming back home with me – I'll call Tsubaki to come take care of you later!"

"Maka, c'mon, I don't wanna' go home!" Soul whined, clutching her arm as he steadied himself. She squeaked when he rested heavily against her, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "It's not _that_ late—!"

"Not that late? It's midnight, you dumbass. _You're_ _coming home with me_, no exceptions. Come on, get moving!" Maka firmly said, shoving him ahead of her.

"HEY! What about me?"

"Just stay put until I call Tsubaki to come pick you up!" Maka shouted over her shoulder, rolling her eyes when the ninja sank down to his knees and sat back with a careless shrug of his shoulders. She thought she saw him pull out a can from his pocket but she couldn't be sure, because Soul had decided that dragging his feet would be _great _while he moistened her neck with his heavy breathing.

"Soul, stand up straight! Don't drag your feet! You'll ruin your shoes!"

"M'not draggin' my feet." Soul mumbled, although he did make an effort to walk better.

Maka parted her lips for a scathing remark but decided, with the way Soul's eyes were unfocused and cloudy, he wouldn't remember anything in the morning – or, if he did, he sure as hell would pretend he didn't remember. She pressed her lips tightly together, digging her fingers into the thick material of his leather jacket as she slowly walked him back home.

She was contemplating giving him a few cups of water to dilute the alcohol in his system when they got home when he spoke up, sounding surprisingly _more_ drunk than before:

"Maka, you shouldn' be ou' at nigh'... it's dang'rous!"

"And you think being out on the street, _drunk_, is any safer?" Maka snapped, with disbelief. "What if you encountered a witch in disguise or a kishin on the streets? Or a thief or-or—!"

"I'd stab 'em with my scythe!" As if to prove his point, he rose his arm and transformed it into a scythe blade, making Maka squawk in surprise when the tip nearly sliced through her shoulder.

"S-Soul! Put that thing away—transform back! That's dangerous – you're not conscious enough to control it!"

"S'okay, I can do it!" Soul insisted, swinging around his arm with a delirious grin on his face.

"Soul, quit it! This isn't funny—SOUL!"

"You're no fun!" Soul whined, but conceded with her request. "You need to ge' out more, Maka, s'not healthy to lock you'self in your room all the time!" He caught her in a headlock, stopping them in the middle of the street.

"Soul, what are you—!"

"Mushrooms will grow on your head if you stay inside all day." Soul stated, seriously, sounding almost sober. Then he burst into snickers and buried his face in her neck, weakly pounding a fist on her shoulder as he shook with laughter. "Holy shit, imagine if you grew mushrooms on your head. That'd be fuckin' _funny!_"

Maka resisted the urge to smack him upside the head. That wouldn't help the situation at all and Soul was heavy awake – he'd be near-impossible to carry back if he were knocked out.

"Maka, why'd you come after me?" Soul asked, once they were a block away from their apartment. He was leaning on her as they walked, his head resting against her own comfortably. Although he was bent at an awkward angle, being taller than her, he didn't seem to mind.

"Because you said you'd be back before nine but you never came back!" Maka answered, not thinking much of it. "I was..." She hesitated.

"Yeah?"

"I was worried something had happened to you." She quietly said, stubbornly refusing to meet his hazy glance as they reached their apartment complex. Climbing up the stairs had been rather easy, the walk to their apartment having circulated the alcohol in his body enough to diminish most of the effects.

When she threw their door open, blindly searching the wall for the light switch, she was more surprised when Soul basically crashed into her than the sight of Blair happily dozing on a small patch of moonlight by the windowsill.

"Sorry..." Soul apologized, as Maka shook off the surprise. Blair hadn't been home before she left in search of Soul.

"It's okay, Soul – just go to your room and I'll bring you a glass of water." Maka sighed. "As much as I'd like you to learn your lesson by letting you get a hangover, we have school tomorrow, and I don't have time to baby you if you get sick!"

"I won't to do it again!" Soul promised, clutching her arm. It was difficult to disentangle herself from him, his embrace strong and crushing, and she had half a thought to wake up Blair to help her with Soul when he whispered: "I won't worry you again... I was being dumb, Black Star didn't tell me we were gonna' go out _drinking_... he just did it 'cause he knew I wouldn't piss you off by agreeing to go drinkin' with him..."

"But you still did it!" Maka angerly pointed out.

"Once I was, like, half drunk! I didn't know whatever he was feeding me at his house was bad! The coke tasted kinda' weird, but..." He grinned sheepishly.

"He basically _intoxicated _you without your knowing?" Maka was slightly impressed – that was a smart move, coming from Black Star.

"Yeah." Soul nodded, closing his eyes as he rested against her. "The rest... did by myself... thought it wasn't late..." The rest of his words were a jumbled up mumble, a string of vowels and sounds she couldn't piece together into anything.

Maka heaved another sigh, her anger a simmer now that he had at least explained himself. She half-dragged, half-shoved, Soul into his room, careful not to make too much noise. She dumped him on his bed, peeling off his jacket from his body and taking off his shoes. She yanked off his socks, and then a glint caught her eye from high up his body.

His belt.

Maka undid the buckle, aware that her hands were a little unsteady. She dismissed her hesitation as being ridiculous (she was just taking his belt off so it didn't dig into his stomach while he slept!) and carefully slid the belt out of each belt loop without waking him.

Sparing him one last glance, her anger at him somewhat assuaged at the familiar sight of his open-mouthed snores and peaceful expression, she padded out of the room and closed the door behind her.

"Was that Soul-kun?" Blair asked, yawning as she hopped onto the top of the couch.

"Yeah, sorry if we woke you up, Blair." Maka said, concernedly wondering if Soul would feel too sick to go to school in the morning since she had not had the chance to give him some water. "I wouldn't go in there tonight, if I were you. You can sleep in my room this time. I'll be there in a sec."

"Nya, okay!" Blair shrugged, too sleepy to ask why they had arrived so late in the first place. "Blair shall warm the bed up for Maka-chan!"

Maka smiled. "Okay." She walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, hurrying to Soul's room and placing it on his nightstand in case he became thirsty. She had read in a book that thirst was a side-effect, since alcohol dehydrated you. She had high hopes the water would delay the hangover if he drank it in the morning, but... whenever Blair came home drunk and giggly, she always awoke sick and haggard and _everything _made her sick.

She had magic, so she could easily disperse the nasty effects of a hangover in the morning, but Soul didn't have magic, and she would _not _let Blair help him out even if he begged...unless it was that bad; he _had_ mixed different kinds of alcoholic beverages, from what she'd overheard...

"Oh, whatever!" Maka muttered, running a hand down her face. "I'm worrying about you too much. You're such a pain sometimes, Soul, you know that?" She plopped down on the edge of his bed, watching him sleep soundly. "Idiot... letting yourself get carried away like that. Why do I even bother with you...?"

Her hands reached over to brush aside a few long strands of silvery hair.

He'd need a haircut soon.

"Don't do that to me again." Maka softly scolded, allowing her hand to rest against his forehead. "You really had me worried something happened to you..." Giving his face one last short stare, she stood up and walked out of his bedroom, heading over to her own room to get as much rest as she could for tomorrow.

It wasn't until four in the morning that Maka remembered she had to call Tsubaki to pick up Black Star – and when she phoned the weapon, she was relieved to find that Black Star had somehow stumbled his way back home a few minutes after Maka left him alone, and crashed on the tea table in the living room. He was out like a light, Tsubaki wearily told her, and hadn't even woken up when he rolled over and slammed his head against the edge of the table...

Needless to say, their punishment came in the form of clutching the toilet bowl for an hour as they emptied out their stomachs.

Maka couldn't have decided a better punishment for either – even if she _did_ miss school that day...

* * *

**A.N: **Hah, I liked the part where Black Star rolled over on the table and hit his head on the edge. He's gonna' have one massive headache when he wakes up XD

_Requested by **aquatwin**_**.**

_Scarlett._


	6. Chapter 6

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you sacrifice a little of your cool to help her out._

* * *

He didn't like being useless; even if he spent half the day lazing around on the couch, watching TV.

That's why he was determined to learn how to cook.

She had left for the library and promised that she would be back late, so he should not wait up for her. He knew she wasn't actually studying, but scraping up every mention of the parasitic Black Blood so she could understand what Medusa had done to him better.

She was trying so hard...

Soul stood before the entrance of their kitchen, his eyes landing on the pots and pans that hung on the walls for easy access.

He didn't know the first thing about cooking.

The _most _he could do was cup noodles, and that was only because you had to boil water and let it sit for three minutes. That was _nothing _compared to the meals that Maka made when she wasn't tired or she had time.

He spun a pan in his hand before putting it back in place.

He didn't even know _what _to cook.

He had no idea how to make curry; he didn't know the first thing to making spaghetti; he had absolutely _no _idea how to marinate meat or even make a soup; and don't even get him started on sea food cuisine. He didn't have the guts to consult Maka about this since he couldn't stand the anguish that crossed her face whenever she looked at him; specifically his chest, where the evidence of his commitment to her stood stark against his skin.

He wanted to _do _something for her – he wanted to _not _be useless all the time when it came to these ordinary things.

He wanted to help her out the best he could because she was going through a rough time, even if she didn't show it. As if having that witch's malignant plans hanging over their heads wasn't bad enough, she had to study for school, train, and take care of all the household needs because he sort of _sucked _at that stuff. Except the training, he was pretty good at training. And video games. But that hardly helped her cause.

Soul clutched his shirt, feeling the swollen skin where Crona's sword had cut through. He got twenty three stitches down his chest, courtesy of Professor Stein, and he would get them removed in the next few weeks.

He opened the refrigerator, going through all the food they had. Nothing stuck out to him. He could try his luck and _make _something out of the food they currently had, but...

"What am I doing?" Soul mumbled to himself, slamming the refrigerator door. What _was_ he doing? He hadn't a clue what do cook; barely had the skills to do so, anyway. He considered just giving up and buying take out when he remembered that Maka had learned to cook from someone; had learned from one of their _friends_.

"Tsubaki!" Soul realized. Maka hadn't always been such a great cook. She could cook, yes, but recently her dishes had gotten broader; more extravagant. He asked her once when she had gotten so good and she had laughingly said she had been getting lessons from Tsubaki.

This was his best chance to learn how to cook and he wasn't going to waste it.

"_Hello, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa speaking. How may I help you?"_

She sounded like a salesperson but Soul dismissed that in favour of asking her that dreaded question. It wouldn't be cool, sure, but he _guessed _sacrificing some of his cool for his meister was alright. "Tsubaki? It's me, Soul."

"_Ah! Soul-kun! Black Star is at the gym right now, but if you want you could leave a message and I'll give it to him as soon as he returns!"_

"Actually, I didn't call to talk to Black Star. I called because... uh..."

"_Yes?"_

"You—gave Maka cooking lessons a while back, right?"

"_Yes, I still give her some tips every now and then. Why?"_

Soul gnawed on his lip. If thinking it was uncool, then saying it must sound _lame_. But remembering her pain, the hours spent in the library researching Black Blood, gave him the motivation to ask. "Could you... sorta' give _me _some lessons?" He cringed. Uncool, uncool, uncool, uncool— he was the most uncool person to _ever _live for asking such a dumb question_—!_

"_Of course, Soul-kun! I'd be happy to teach you how to cook! But, it's surprising to know that you'd like to learn how to cook. Maka tells me you aren't very fond of the kitchen.. or doing much in general." _She laughed nervously.

His mantra of _uncool _shattered at those words, and his face hardened. "That's because I can't cook. So I can't do anything to help her, I'd just get in the way." He glanced at the kitchen and took a deep breath. "Listen, are you doing anything today?"

"_No, not right now. Would you like to start today?"_

"Yeah."

"_Great! Come over and I'll set up the kitchen for you! Ah, about how much do you know about cooking? Just so I could gauge where we should—!"_

"I burned water once."

"_... Hah?"_

Soul cleared his throat. "Long story."

"_Ah, um, well, I suppose we could start with the very, very basics. Just bring an apron because I don't have a spare. Things tend to get a little messy for beginners."_

"Alright, cool. See you in ten!" Soul grinned, hanging up. He glanced at the clock. He still had a few hours before Maka returned. He might have to buy take out tonight but at least he wouldn't be useless for _too_ long.

Taking the blue apron that hung on the hook beside the stove, Soul folded it up and shoved it in the inner pockets of his jacket so no one else would see it.

He'd show Maka just how helpful - and _active _- he could be.


	7. Chapter 7

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you take his word for it and get on the Atom Smasher 3000._

* * *

Maka liked amusement parks.

Death City was too small and isolated to have an amusement park, but their fairs and carnival events were extravagant, so she had never felt the need to leave the safe sanction of her city to explore other places for these types of entertainment.

Kid had taken them all to an amusement after being bugged by Patty and Liz for a whole eight days straight. Black Star and Tsubaki, Soul and Maka, even Kilik, the twins, Kim and Ox had gone along with them. Harvar had decided to pass, stating he wasn't in the mood to mingle amongst overly excited strangers, but his absence hadn't caused much of a disturbance save for Ox, who seemed a little bored without his best friend.

But the thing that made amusement parks and carnivals so different was that one had humongous, dangerous, roller coasters and a carnival barely had such rides because they were too big to be broken apart and built back together in one day.

Maka stared at the looming roller coaster before her, eyes wide and mouth falling open. It was _enormous! _She had never seen so many loops, so many slopes and peaks, on a roller coaster before! The name was no less assuring, either, being a fan of physics herself: _Atom Smasher 3000..._

"We're _so_ getting on it." Soul stated beside her, staring at the ride with a fascinated grin. His eyes glowed like a child's; completely enthralled with the idea of getting his atoms rearranged.

"B-but don't you think it's a little too...dangerous?" Maka nervously squeaked, clutching her stick of cotton candy in her hand.

Soul snorted. "Don't be stupid, Maka, these things won't kill you. Then nobody would ride them."

That made sense but it still didn't thaw the stubborn fear that had nestled in her gut. "But...I mean, it's really big...and stuff."

"It's _perfect_." Soul sighed, dreamily. "C'mon, before the line gets bigger!" He tapped her shoulder, starting to walk over to the steadily building line. "Maka? You comin' or what?"

"Um, no thanks, Soul." Maka plastered a fake smile on her face. "I think I'll pass on this one. Ah, I still haven't finished my cotton candy, so..."

"So? You can finish it while we wait in line."

"I'm a slow eater!" Maka insisted.

"I'll help you out then."

Maka hesitated. "Um..."

He smirked suddenly, something that made her stomach plummet to the ankles. He had seen right through her act, she realized. "What's this? Don't tell me you're _scared._"

"I'm not scared!" Maka hotly defended.

Soul burst out laughing. He didn't believe her. She wouldn't believe herself, either; she was probably pale from just staring at the way the carts dropped from such a high peak.

"No way! You fight kishin almost every day but you're _scared_ of some dumb roller coaster?" Soul stifled his laughter when he noticed her deadly glower. "C'mon, don't be a buzz kill, it's just a ride." He held his hand out to her, smiling encouragingly. "If you want, I'll hold you hand." He teased, but was rewarded with one of her fiery looks.

She slapped his hand away, stomping to the end of the line. "I don't need to hold onto _anyone's_ hand! It's just a ride! I'm _not_ scared, Soul! Now, hurry up! The lines getting longer..."

Soul snickered to himself, slouching after her.

She finished her cotton candy in line but she suddenly wished she hadn't; maybe then she wouldn't have to get on the ride, with the excuse that she didn't have anyone else to hold her stuff.

"Get in." Soul nodded to the empty seat in the cart. "Hurry up, we don't have all day!"

"O...kay." Maka swallowed, taking a step into what she believed would be her own grave.

She wanted to tear the safety restraints off the instant she was seated into the cart beside Soul. When the man had lowered the sturdy restraints, securing her in her seat, she realized just what a bad idea this had been. But before she could even call the man over to let her out, her pride be damned, the cart lurched forward and there had gone any chance of escaping the intimidating ride.

"Sweet! I've been dying to get on this ride since forever!" Soul excitedly said, anticipating reaching the peak of the first hill. There were eight loops on this roller coaster! He couldn't wait to go through all of them! "You'll see – this ride is _epic! _You'll want to ride it again... Maka?" He frowned at her lack-of-response. Usually she at least hummed a reply, to show that she was paying some attention. "Hey, Maka, you alright?" He leaned over, trying to get a look at her face.

She looked worried - or ill. She was biting her lip and he noticed her hands were gripping the safety restraints tightly; knuckles bleached white from the pressure. She hadn't noticed he stopped talking: she kept her eyes straight ahead, to the oncoming peak. He noticed she looked paler than usual and felt wry amusement lift his lips into a lopsided smile.

She was scared but she wasn't saying anything of it.

She wouldn't either, he realized with some pride, because Maka wasn't that type of person.

"Geez," he breathed, giving the peak one glance before reaching over to take her hand. He laced their fingers together to ensure they wouldn't slip away once the ride officially began. "When did you get so cute?" He muttered, and Maka didn't have a chance to reply before they fell down the slope and screams filled their ears for the rest of the ride.

* * *

"Wh-whoa...I feel like I lost my stomach somewhere between the third and fourth loop." Maka groaned, as they both disembarked from the ride. She was unsteady on her feet, needing to use Soul for support. He seemed equally dazed although he was grinning in a way that reminded her of the time they had rode his motorcycle down a flight of stairs to catch up to a fleeing kishin.

That had been one of the _worst_ misadventures of her life – each bump had made terror lurch up her throat and her arms had wound tightly around his waist to keep herself in place. She was glad she had reserved most of her attention in keeping track of the kishin and not the way the bike almost seemed to topple forward from the speed...

"That was... _awesome_." Soul said in awe, regaining his energy and dragging his meister to the end of the line. "Let's ride it again!"

"NO!" Maka choked, digging her heels into the pavement. "No! I'm not getting on that-that _monster_ again! No way – you're going to have to go with someone else, Soul, because I've had enough roller coasters for today!"

"Aw, come on!" Soul groaned. "Just one more time—then we can get on whatever ride you want! Hell, I'll go on the goddamn _Ferris Wheel _with you! Just _one more_—!"

"Can't Black Star get on with you?" Maka complained. "I don't think my stomach could take another loop..." She felt sick; all of that soda, cotton candy, fries, and popcorn would resurface if she got on that extreme ride again.

Soul gave her a calculating look, as if deciding if she were telling the truth or not, and decided, given the shade of green her face had acquired at the thought of riding that roller coaster again, that she was telling the truth and resigned himself to a rather boring evening.

"Fine. We'll get on it next time we visit, I guess." Soul sighed, walking away from it.

"You—you don't have to come with me every where if you don't want to!" Maka shouted after him, feeling guilty that she was taking some of the fun out of Soul's experience. He seemed so thrilled to get on the ride again, too. "I mean, I know I saw Black Star somewhere around here... you can get on it with him and I can wait down here for you."

Soul spared her a glance. He appeared casual but Maka knew better. "It's cool, Maka. At least I can say that I've been on it before and lived. No big deal."

"But if you really want to..." Maka trailed off, helplessly. A flash of blue caught her eye and she whipped her head to the side, smiling when she saw Tsubaki along with Black Star. "Perfect!" She exclaimed, confusing Soul until she shouted: "Hey! Black Star! Over here!"

"Maka, you don't have to—!" Soul began, heaving another sigh when the energetic assassin caught sight of them and bounded over with a bucket of gummy worms in his hands.

"What's up? Do you want me to bless your souls before you get on that beast over there?" Black Star smirked, jabbing a thumb to the massive roller coaster that seemed to rise beyond the clouds.

"We already _got _on it, Black Star." Soul idly informed, making his brows shoot up to his hairline.

"_What_? Seriously? No way! You said you were gonna' get on it with _me!_" Black Star whined.

"Yeah, well, you ran off with Tsubaki to god-knows-where so I got on it with Maka instead." Soul shrugged, not too concerned.

"Did she cry?" Black Star eyed Maka critically. "Or piss her pants?"

"NO!" Maka glared.

"No." Soul repeated, far calmer. "She almost blew my ear out with her screams, though." He tapped his palm against his ear, as if that would help get rid of the irritating ring.

Black Star snickered. "Good enough."

"Look, I called you over to see if you want to get on the ride again with Soul." Maka cut to the chase, hands on her hips. "So, do you or do you not? You were going to get on it with him anyways, right?"

Black Star's electric blue eyes lit up at that. "Yeah! Soul, let's do it! Come on! Oh – wait – !" He suddenly grinned, wickedly. He pointed to the food stand behind him. "Let's eat first. First one to throw up has to kiss the others ass in public!"

Soul grinned. "You're on!" And they darted to the food stand, both bent on devouring four hot dogs each before getting on the ride.

"Um, I have a feeling this won't end well." Tsubaki commented, watching her meister devour three hotdogs in three breaths; Soul not too far behind him.

"It _won't._" Maka agreed, wisely. "C'mon, Tsubaki, let's go ride the Ferris Wheel. I really don't want to be here when Black Star pukes his guts out."

Tsubaki nodded, following the scythe meister through the crowd. "Agreed."

* * *

**A.N: **Soul vs Black Star... who has the iron stomach? My bets are on Black Star – that kid can go through anything and everything and still have enough energy not to puke up his lunch.

I updated _now _because I have finals this whole week, so I won't be able to turn on my computer at all. I will be cramming instead! And maybe pulling a Soul and covering my whole body in cheat sheets... only I won't get caught like he did! ;D

_Requested by **Reminescence3701**_.

_Scarlett._


	8. Chapter 8

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you somewhat repair the tense relationship he has with his mother._

* * *

Paris, France was gorgeous.

Although the conversations that ran all around her were foreign and she could only distinguish a few words, she found that learning the language wasn't necessary when you were touring the beautiful streets with your partner.

All she needed was Soul to speak to; he provided more than adequate conversation.

Sometimes.

"We should go to the Eiffel Tower!" Maka suggested, excitedly. She grabbed his arm, pointing to the tower that rose ahead of them like a castle. "Come on, Soul, I've always wanted to go to the top!"

Soul eyed the long line to enter the tower wearily. "How about some other time? We have another two days here, so what's the rush?"

Maka narrowed her eyes. "I want to see it _now._"

"Be patient and see it tomorrow, when it's not so _ful__l!_" Soul thumbed to the steadily building line. Maka noticed most of the tourists came out moments after, looking disappointed. "I don't think you wanna' wait five hours just to see some dumb city..."

"It's _not_ dumb!" Maka defended. "Paris is a beautiful city! I think it would be wonderful to see it from up so high!" Maka glanced at the rustic clock face that hung from a clock tower in the middle of the square they had paused in. "In fact, I think I _will _wait five hours!"

Soul gawked in horror, as she calculated the size of the tower with her eyes and estimated the time silently.

"Maka, seriously, it's a _long time_." He insisted. "By the time you reach the top, you're gonna' be too tired to appreciate the view!"

"Hmm, we'll see!" Maka flatly said, pivoting on her heel and heading over to the Eiffel Tower's entrance stubbornly. "If you want, you could go back to the hotel! I'll be back later, maybe late!"

"Wait, Maka—!" Soul struggled with his words, unsure of what to stay to get her to stay. He could either go back to the hotel or follow her to the tower. He sighed when she disappeared within a throng of people. He could no longer see her ashy blond head.

"Shit." He cursed, standing in the middle of the sidewalk broodingly. He didn't want to leave Maka all alone in a city she was barely familiar with. It wasn't the cool thing to do to a girl, even if she wanted to waste a few hours standing around in line to experience a different view of Paris.

But she was angry at him at the moment, and following her would mean he had to deal with her cold shoulder...

_I'll get something to eat and find her later. _He decided silently, ducking down the sidewalk. He ignored the way he moved so quickly down the street, bent on getting something quick to eat before wandering over to look for her. He had no difficultly finding her amongst a crowd of people due to her strong soul wavelength, but it was still difficult to discern her from a multitude when she was pissed at him.

Meanwhile, Maka was pleased to see that she was already inside of the Eiffel Tower. There was a concert up at the very top, some renowned musician was preforming or the other, but Maka wasn't interested in that save for the fact that you needed a reservation to enter to the top...

Unless you were a Shibusen student.

"Oh, my, will there be any disturbances over the next few hours? Any thing we should be concerned about?" The manager asked worriedly, his accent thick. But Maka merely stashed her ID in her trench coat and refrained from grinning too widely.

"Not if I could help it, sir, my partner should be arriving here shortly." Maka informed, knowing that Soul probably wasn't going to show up. But it couldn't hurt to say it anyway; he would wonder why she was weaponless eventually. "I'll just take a quick look of the place to ensure that the concert goes undisturbed."

The manager nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, of course, mademoiselle! Please, if you wish, you may take the elevator to the top to begin your investigation. If there is any thing you require, please contact our staff and they will assist you immediately."

_Elevator? _Maka perked, darting her eyes to the sleek metal doors of the elevator beside the main desk. "Yes, thank you for your time!" Maka shouted over her shoulder. She happily pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive.

She smugly whistled, clasping her hands behind her. Soul had said it would take more than five hours to reach the top. For her, it would take less than ten minutes, and perhaps she even had exclusive access to hear to that musician preform if she played her cards right.

Although Lord Death usually disapproved of using ones Shibusen ID in such a manner, it did not stop his students from taking advantage of the many perks the school ID offered. Maka was glad she had exchanged her regular Shibusen ID for a Deathscythe ranked ID or else she was sure entry to the tower would have been next to impossible.

"_Wow_..." Maka breathed, once she reached the top. She had maneuvered her way through the crowd of guests and other restaurant employees to reach the balcony that introduced a simply breathtaking view of the city of Paris.

The sun was basking low on the horizon, a strip of vibrant red across the land. She let her eyes linger on the intensity of the color, imagining it to be the same shade of bloody red as her partners eyes. At his memory, a warm smile lifted her lips, and she leaned against the iron railing peacefully. Her eyes sought out any places of interest below.

She hung around the lonesome balcony for a while, wondering if her partner had gone to the hotel as she had said and was now watching television or indulging in his secret hobby of creating music sheets again...

"Wonderful view, isn't it?"

Maka jumped, turning only to stare in awe. A woman stood behind her; a woman who looked eerily familiar to her partner. Eyes of molten red, lips equally vibrant, with a skin that most would envy, this woman was deserving of being titled a model. Her hair, a long rope of silver white down her shoulder ended near her cinched waist. The dress she wore was a gorgeous wine red, splitting at the side to show a daring strip of milky white skin.

Despite her intimidating beauty, the smile on her lips was soft; reminiscent of a mothers smile when speaking of their child. Maka found herself relaxed under her quiet supervision.

"Yes, it is." Maka cleared her throat, turning back to the city.

"Now, then, I know it's not any of my business, but what is such a pretty young girl like you doing up here all alone? Should you not be enjoying the celebration inside?" The woman asked, soft spoken yet sharp.

"Ah, I don't think I would be invited inside, actually. I was allowed access to the top strictly for investigation purposes!" Maka laughed, nervously. "I guess the view distracted me from what I was hired to do..."

"Hired?" The woman arched a regal brow. That's when Maka noticed her earrings. They were liquid crystals, no doubt diamond, in the peculiar shape of a musical note Maka often saw line the edge of the staff. She remembered Soul called it a treble clef, whatever that meant. "You're so young, what could they have possibly _hired_ you for..." She sounded flabbergasted.

Maka reached into her leather coat, a new edition to her wardrobe. Soul had bought it for her not too long ago for her birthday, given that she often bemoaned the fact that she could no longer fit into her old trench coat.

"Maka Albarn, Three-Star Demon Scythe Meister." Maka introduced herself formally, flashing her ID. It was required that you introduced yourself in this manner to anyone who asked, and since lying might get her kicked out of the tower, it was best to follow normal protocol.

Her eyes widened considerably, and she clutched the satin material of her dress; right by her heart, Maka noticed.

"It couldn't be..." Maka heard the woman murmur to herself.

"Ma'am?"

"You go to Shibusen, don't you?" She took a step forward, desperation slipping through the cracks of her otherwise impenetrable mask of aloofness. "My name is Marcella Evans. Do you happen to know a boy called Soul Evans? He might have changed his surname but I'm sure he hasn't changed his first name!"

"Eater..." Maka whispered, staring at the woman in an entirely different light. There had been something disturbingly similar about her from the instant she had arrived; the aloof mask, the angled cheekbones and smooth skin; her eyes, so vibrant and entrancing; voice, smooth as ironed silk and just as dangerous; hair, an impossible snow white. "Soul Eater, right?"

Her eyes lit, shards of crushed ruby under the dying rays of the sun. "Yes! Yes, that must be his new name! So you know him?"

"He's my weapon partner..."

Her mouth parted in surprise, and she searched her eyes for any deceit.

"Soul and I have been partners for a long, long time. Since he entered Shibusen, actually. We met at the Meister-Weapon Convention." Maka smiled despite her trepidation. "He's finally a Deathscythe."

"_Oh_..." Marcella whispered, although there was no disgust or shock. There was pride, and Maka dropped her eyes despite the fact that there was no reason to feel disheartened. She supposed she just felt a little forgotten, remembering her own estranged mother. "I always knew he would do it." Marcella said, at length. "He was such a determined boy when he was growing up... but he wasn't destined for the life of a musician."

"... I still think he's the best." Maka stated, turning back to the setting sun. It would be dark soon. "I've only listened to him play a few times, but he really does pour his soul into his compositions..."

"But his father didn't understand that." Marcella softly informed, and Maka side-glanced her curiously. "His father didn't appreciate the genre of music his son created. He was wonderful when reciting classical scores, but when it came to composing something of his own, the music was so dreary and painful to hear. Surely he would make no success writing such scores, so his father often scorned him."

"I think..." Maka began, staring resolutely ahead. There was _definitely_ something disturbingly similar about this woman, and it would be how she quietly observed her; so much like her partner. "...I think that his music was devastating, in a beautiful sort of way. Even though he still doesn't believe me. And there's nothing wrong with that except he wanted you to be proud of him but you never gave him that. You ran him out of his home instead."

She meant it honestly, she wasn't accusing her, but she realized that was what it must have sounded as and she opened her mouth to apologize. However, she thought against it. Soul suffered a lot from his families rejection, and although she was being rude to her, Maka wouldn't mean her apology.

She clutched the rail instead.

"I know." Marcella agreed, heavily. "If only we'd given him more attention... maybe not put Wes as first priority..." She touched her hair, running fingers through the thick strands. "But it's too late for that, isn't it?"

Maka didn't reply.

She didn't think pointing out the obvious would be very polite.

Marcella Evans smiled sadly and tapped her shoulder quietly. "Come inside, would you? It's quite cold out here. Have you finished with your investigation yet...?"

Maka smiled, weakly. She still felt as if she owed Marcella for being so rude, so she settled with telling her the real reason she was standing by the balcony lonesomely. "There... wasn't really an investigation. Well, there _was, _but it wasn't here at the Eiffel Tower. I just really wanted to see the city from up here so I lied to the manager! Please don't tell anyone!" Maka quickly added, pleadingly.

Marcella smiled, very slightly. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Her eyes twinkled, and she made a sweeping motion to the warm and elegant interior of the restaurant. "Come. We have a lot to discuss. I haven't spoken to my son in over five years, and I'm curious about how he is holding up all alone. It's the least I could do now, right?"

Maka smiled at her.

She wasn't as bad as she thought she would be.

* * *

Soul Eater slouched against the glass walls of the elevator, a slight grin on his face.

Maka was so cool sometimes.

She had achieved access to the topmost part of the Eiffel Tower by flashing her credentials to the manager. When he had first entered the tower, he had been surprised to see the entrance to the stairwell closed off for regular visitors.

He had felt a fleeting panic, a moment where his stomach dropped and his face paled, when he realized that he had spent the last two hours dawdling at a nearby cafe, scribbling music notes on paper napkins and sipping coffee, while his meister wandered the streets of Paris _alone_.

That is, until the manager walked up behind him and asked if he was the expected partner of the Shibusen Meister from Death City, Nevada. From there, he had easily schooled his expression blank and flashed his own ID, giving him immediate access to the tower like Maka had.

"Excuse me, sir," the man had asked, right before he entered the elevator. "I must say, you hold a striking resemblance to Mademoiselle Evans! Might you be—?"

"You're mistaken." Soul had coldly cut him off. "I'm Soul _Eater_, not Soul _Evans_." And the elevator doors shut, drowning out the mans recognition along with his questions.

Soul got off the elevator and walked down the path that would lead to the balcony. If he knew his meister as well as he did, then she would still be overlooking the city. She was critical about these things. But when he arrived to the tourist area, he saw no one, and he frowned.

He glanced around, his eyes straying to the inside of the restaurant. Could it be...? Maka wasn't the type to enter those types of fancy facilities and he frankly disliked them, mostly because being stuck in a fitted suit for half the night was uncomfortable and suffocating.

His eyes caught a flash of ashy blond and he immediately started forward when he saw Maka appear at the entrance of the restaurant.

She beamed, waving him over.

"I knew I recognized your wavelength!" Maka laughed. She was immensely bubbly for the evening. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you doing here? I thought you were back at the hotel!"

"No way." Soul scoffed. "I just went to get some grub, then I came back to find you." A smirk crossed his face at her uneasiness. "Suspected kishin on the Eiffel Tower, huh? Nice." He tugged on a pigtail appreciatively, snickering when she swatted his hand away. "So, what're you doing in such a stuffy place? You're not even dressed for it." He observed, watching a flicker of concern cross her eyes. "You must stick out like a sore thumb in there."

"Well, actually..." Maka began, guiltily. She wrung her hands, dropping her eyes. "I _was _going to just check out the view for a few hours before heading back to the hotel when... this woman came up and began to speak to me."

"Uh huh." Soul nodded, disinterestedly. "So, what? She bought your dinner or something?"

"Not exactly. Sort of." Maka cleared her throat. "Her name was... her name was Marcella Evans, Soul."

Soul froze.

"She didn't recognize me!" Maka quickly amended, seeing his paralyzed horror. "Not immediately, anyway. I didn't know it was her until I introduced myself as a Shibusen student... and then she started asking about you, and, well..." Maka bit her lip. "I know—you don't have a very good relationship with your family but she seems like a really nice person and—!"

"Shut up! You don't know anything about them!" Soul harshly snapped, causing Maka to abruptly quiet. "There's a reason why I left, and it's _none _of your business!" He felt guilt when hurt crossed her face but he felt far too horrified to amend for his words. "You know what? This is so not my scene. I'm leaving. I'll catch you later." He turned, intent on returning to the hotel to fully digest this situation, when a sharp voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Soul Evans, I did _not _teach you to raise your tone to a young lady! Much less someone so close to you! Apologize immediately!"

Soul squared his shoulders automatically. He reluctantly turned, meeting his mother's fiery gaze. "Mother..." He murmured.

"Now, Soul Evans." Marcella Evans stepped beside Maka. Her hand rested on her shoulder and Maka sputtered an excuse, red-faced, something along the lines of she and Soul always arguing, but his mother would see nothing of it. "Or should I say Soul _Eater?_"

Soul flinched, casting his eyes down. He was a mess; he never thought he'd meet his mother in such a place, much less that his meister would speak to her for such an extended period of time. He could only guess what things they had spoken about, and just what lies his father had fed her? His mother had always been rather honest, but his _father_...

Soul set his jaw.

"... I'm sorry I yelled at you, Maka." He quietly said. He wasn't looking at them. His hands were fists, knuckles bleached white against his skin. He was silently fuming.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it." Maka replied, just as quiet. "I didn't come here knowing she would be here, too, Soul." With a tired smile, she added: "It like you said, right? I could barely understand music, so why would I search for it if I don't get it?"

Marcella squeezed her shoulder. They had spoken about this when Marcella made the casual question of what type of music she liked to hear. Maka shouldn't have been so surprised; honestly, the woman was competent in leading a string quartet and her favorite instrument was the cello. But when she had asked, Maka had subdued, and considered lying to her but ended up confessing the truth.

She wasn't musically inclined.

Marcella had smiled sadly, understanding now why her son had chosen her in the first place.

But what Maka didn't know was that sorrowful reason had crumbled the longer they spoke. Her son hadn't chosen her for her lack of musical abilities, there was something magical about this girl; about the way her emerald eyes shimmered under the light, about the way she laughed, so carefree and cheerful, about the way she thought, creatively with a child-like innocence. Her determination and studious personality amused Marcella; her son, she knew, was far from being inclined to study – whenever his piano instructor left homework, he _never_ did it!

She was different than most girls. Marcella believed this was the real reason her son had chosen to partner up with her. He had always been an enigma himself with his strange, but not unflattering, appearance, and dark personality.

Soul watched his mother lay another hand on Maka's shoulder, standing partially behind her. Soul was surprised to see so much warmth flood Marcella's face, her smile and her eyes, because the last few memories he held of her were of her cold glare and slight scowl as she allowed him permission to move out and travel to Death City to pursue a career as a weapon.

Marcella Evans was not a very expressive person yet Soul was not surprised that Maka had somehow managed to crack the indifferent facade of his mother.

A slight smile twitched on his lips at the thought.

She had a special talent of doing that to people.

That was what made her such a cool partner.

"Ah, um, Miss Evans?" Maka began, hesitantly.

"Please, call me Marcella."

Soul arched a brow in disbelief. His mother had taken a _serious_ liking to his partner if she was allowing her to call her so boldly by her first name...

"Marcella," Maka tried her name out, with a brighter smile. "I think I've overspent my welcome. We really do have to get searching for that kishin – we caught its shadow but not its true self. So it's still probably lurking in some ally right now, and it would be bad if it manages to devour any more human souls."

"Oh, my, please be careful." Marcella concernedly said.

Maka dismissed her concern. "Don't worry! We've done this more times than we could count! It's a really weak kishin compared to the others we've been assigned. The only reason we accepted this one was because I wanted to visit Paris." She beamed.

"And you wanted to taste frog legs." Soul added, dropping his shoulders into a slouch again. He grinned at her disgusted look. "I know this really good restaurant where they serve them with _ranch!_"

"Ew! That's gross, Soul, don't tell me you ate that for dinner!" Maka exclaimed, looking horrified.

Soul snorted. "No. That's sick, are you crazy? I had coffee and pasta."

"It's a good thing I already ate or else you might be a jerk enough to order me that." Maka mumbled, causing Soul to grin wickedly.

"Yeah, probably. With a side of snail paste, too."

"MAKA CHO—!" She bit her lip, and glared terribly at Soul, whose grin had widened exorbitantly. He knew he'd get it once they were out of his mothers sight but, for right now, he was golden!

Marcella watched his son interact with Maka, the way he seemed so relaxed and comfortable under her. He had even reverted back to his bad posture, with his shoulders slumped and his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets.

He looked so much like his brother when he was that age, the main differences being that his brother had inherited his father's eyes, onyx black, and her straight teeth while Soul inherited her eyes, a sultry ruby, and his grandfathers serrated teeth. But she supposed the teeth were something that came with being a Demon Scythe.

"I know you two must leave soon but... Soul?" Marcella called softly, causing him to stiffen. He had decided to ignore her presence but now she was placing the spotlight on him. "I know this might sound like a lot to ask for but... please write sometime." She fidgeted but quickly stopped. Evans did not fidget. "I would just like a small update on how you're doing – Maka here has kept most of it to herself, but she told me enough to let me know that you're doing fine. She's such a charming little girl, too!" Marcella crooned, placing a hand on Maka's head.

Soul shot Maka a deadpanned look, and she innocently looked off to the side to avoid it.

_Suck up, _Soul thought to himself. "... I _guess _I can write sometime." He mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. "I won't be able to do it on a monthly basis, but I'll keep you informed on the big stuff if you want."

Marcella breathed out in relief, and Maka snuck a glance at her. Her hand was squeezing her shoulder tightly, as if aching to touch her estranged son. _She must really miss Soul, _Maka realized in those short moments.

"That would be enough." Marcella softly said.

Maka was about to open her mouth to comment when a shock coursed through her body. Her eyes widened and she snapped her head to the city, her eyes darting to search for the disturbance. Approximately five souls had suddenly disappeared; the sudden short-circuit of souls when devoured by kishin's was discernible to her in this stage of her life, and it always left a bitter tang in her mouth when it happened.

"Maka, what's wrong?" Soul demanded, catching the ashy tone of her face. "Maka!"

"Soul, transform." Maka commanded, and Soul immediately transformed into a scythe.

Marcella stepped back in surprise, astonished by the cold resolve in Maka's eyes as she caught a scythe in her hand expertly. Her disposition had changed drastically; from a charming, well-mannered and poised girl to someone dangerous and brutal.

"I'm sorry to cut your reunion with Soul so hastily, Marcella." Maka apologized over her shoulder. "But I just found our kishin, and I'm not letting it get away! I'll make sure Soul writes, even if he doesn't want to! Take care! Bye!"

"Oh, yes, take care—_wait!_ What are you doing? The elevator is _this_ way!" Marcella cried, when Maka leaped onto the railing.

She stood on top of the rail, her coat bellowing with the currents of the wind. Marcella sucked in a gasp at the strange, almost translucent, wings that seemed to flutter from behind her. But they were gone the instant Maka spoke again: "Don't worry, we know what we're doing! It's all part of the job!"

"Mother, relax." Soul added, noticing her distress. "We won't die. Being a Deathscythe gives me the ability to fly."

"Ah! Crap, it's on the move!" Maka muttered.

"What..." Marcella nearly shrieked when Maka leaped off the rail. She ran to the edge, leaning over to see if they had made it. She was surprised to find Maka standing on the scythe, floating a few feet below. She watched, shell-shocked, as Maka rose up, waved cheerfully, and darted to the east of Paris; a mere shadow under the moonlight.

"A... amazing." Marcella gaped to herself, staring after them. So this was a peak into the new life of her son? She smiled weakly. It certainly fit into the type of lifestyle he had excitedly spoke of when he was a little boy; a life outside of dull music theory and waltz lessons.

"Mother, what are you doing all alone out here?" Wes Evans asked, holding two glasses of golden champagne. "Mother? Is everything alright...?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Wes..." Marcella murmured, like an afterthought. She collected herself, turning without looking as ruffled as she had before. "Have you finished your performance now?"

Wes nodded. "Yes, just now, actually. Father was asking for you, since you disappeared for a few hours."

"Yes, I was busy discussing a few things with someone."

"That girl..." Wes began, curiously. He had seen her from the stage, when he took a small break. "Who was she? She was not dressed as the other women were, and I have never seen her before..."

"Her name is Maka." Marcella told him, looking back out into the black sky. The city below glittered like polished diamonds. "She was just a girl I met today."

Wes blinked but didn't comment, guiding her inside and casting a suspicious glance at the sky his mother had been marveling; seeing nothing out of place except for the starless sky and the unusual warmth of the air.

* * *

**A.N: **Phew, that was tough. I struggled with how Soul would react to his mothers appearance at first. Obviously, he has a strained relationship with his family, so this would be no happy reunion. I decided to stick to bittersweet, if not awkward, and I think I pulled it off rather well.

I like part where Maka jumped off the rail and Marcella nearly had a stroke.

_Requested by the anonymous reviewer **STARR**._

_Scarlett._


	9. Chapter 9

** You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_... when she takes your side even though you're the one at fault._

* * *

"For the last time, I didn't do it!" Soul snapped, stuffing his hands deeply into the pockets of his jacket when the Demon Machete merely snorted and said, in the most condescending voice Soul had _ever _heard:

"Professor, he's _obviously _lying."

"Shut up! I'm not lying, you sack of—!"

"Soul, please refrain from shouting." Professor Stein calmly warned. Soul set his jaw and turned away stubbornly, refusing to thaw under the professors critical eye. "_Someone_ took mister Stevens' MP3 player and all fingers are pointing to you. If you deny this accusation, then who else could have stolen the device?"

Soul scoffed. "I don't know but it wasn't _me_! Why would I steal his lame ass iPod when I have a better one myself?"

"Oh, maybe because you _lost _yours a week ago?" Stevens cornered Soul, who hid his surprise under a mask of indifference.

"I don't need to steal _yours _when I can use Maka's." Soul easily rebuffed, being careful not to touch his waistband too much, where the boys MP3 player lay safely tucked. This would have gone smoothly had Stuck Up Stevens not noticed his missing MP3 player from his backpack, and remembered the last person who walked past his desk had been Soul.

What kind of a dork remembered the last person who walked past their desk, anyway?

Even _Maka _wasn't _that _much of a nerd!

"Alright, I have a solution for this." Stein declared, cracking his neck. His hand rose to his head, cranking the screw a few times before he smiled delightedly. Soul felt his stomach plummet to his ankles. "Soul, empty your pockets and take off your jacket for further inspection."

"But I didn't _take _it—!"

"If you did not take it then you would have no problem following my instructions." The professor interrupted crisply, watching his student shrug off his jacket and toss it to him roughly. Stein caught it, feeling the weight of the yellow letterman jacket in his hand. He shook it a little, hearing no disturbance within the pockets, before digging into each one and coming up empty-handed.

"I didn't take it." Soul insisted, praying to whatever divine deity existed that Stein did not decide to pat him down. "Look, you can even ask Black Star! He was with me the entire time!"

Stein rose a brow and glanced at the boy. "Black Star?"

"Huh, what?—oh, yeah! Totally!" Black Star shouted from the first row of desks, munching on some chips as he watched the show unravel with interest. "I was there – Soul didn't take that dorks iPod! He'd want _mine_, obviously, since it's _way _better than Stuck Up - er, Mike's iPod." Black Star quickly amended, catching the furious looks from both Tsubaki and Mike Stevens.

Soul pinched the bridge of his nose. "_Idiot_..."

"Regardless, I'm afraid Black Star's word doesn't count for much." Stein admitted. Black Star choked on a piece of his food. Tsubaki patted his back frantically. "He has a habit of getting into more trouble than he's worth. Did any one else witness the scene?" Stein asked the few students who had hung back to watch.

"No!" Stevens snorted.

"Shut up, no one asked you!" Soul glared at him. He ignored Stevens smart reply, his mind racing for a plan. Who else would back him up on this but Black Star? _Especially _since it was quite obvious now that he _had _stolen the MP3 player from the annoying Demon Machete.

He was screwed, Soul realized.

"Professor, Soul didn't do it."

His eyes widened and he nearly gave himself a whiplash when Maka spoke up, standing up from her seat beside Tsubaki. She ignored the Shadow Demons surprised glance in her direction and she made her way to Soul's side, clasping her hands behind her back in what she hoped was a casual gesture for her.

"Oh?" Stein hummed, with much intrigue. "And why would you say that, Maka?"

Stevens gawked at her.

"Because Soul has no need to steal another person's MP3 player when he can very easily have mine if he needs it." Maka calmly stated, to the professors amusement. He gave the screw lodged in his skull another crank, just in case. "And, for the record, Soul only walked past his desk to sharpen his pencil – you saw it, too."

Stein deliberated her words. Soul _had _gone to sharpen his pencil but what happened in between him sharpening his pencil and returning to his desk was what everyone was counting on – or, at least, what Stevens was counting on, which was Soul pickpocketing his MP3 player during that time interval.

"For precautions sake, I'll have to pat him down." Stein decided, to Soul's horror.

"I'll do it." Maka stated quickly, steeling her voice when the professor narrowed his eyes. "You need a thorough check, correct? It would be more adequate if I were to do it. I am his meister, after all."

Stein nodded, watching sharply as she patted down his pants. Her hands felt the indent of the MP3 player under his waistband and she briefly thought of taking it out and handing it back to the Demon Machete, resolving the issue but subsequently putting Soul in humongous trouble, before she continued with her pat-down.

She dug into his pockets in a manner that left no room for argument.

She was both glad and disturbed that Soul had sneakily stuck the MP3 player in his waistband.

The idea of Soul stealing regularly didn't sit well with her, _but_...

"He's clean." She declared.

Black Star opened his mouth to say something but Tsubaki slapped a hand over it, chiding him silent with a warning look.

"Very well." Stein nodded, after a few seconds. "Stevens, I believe Soul did not, after all, steal your MP3 player. Is there any one else that could have taken it?"

Stevens gaped like a fish at Maka, who avoided his helpless look in favour of taking Soul's jacket from Stein's desk.

She usually studied with the Demon Machete, along with a few others like Ox or Kilik, in the library when she had nothing better to do during lunch or after school.

She wondered if this meant the end of a friendship when Stevens shouted:

"She's _lying _for him, professor! There's no _way_ he couldn't have taken it! He was the only one who was nearby and I _know _I had it before I entered the classroom!"

Maka tensed.

Yep. There went a friendship, all for the sake of her _partner_...

"I'm _not_ lying!" Maka snapped, training fierce sea foam eyes in his direction. "How dare you! If Soul had really stolen your MP3 player, I would let him get what he rightfully deserves! I wouldn't back him up just because he's my partner – a crime is a crime and he'll have to do his punishment to amend for it!"

Soul darted his eyes away from her uneasily – a crime was a crime, huh...?

"But—!"

"Stevens, I believe Maka has a point: she would not lie for Soul. She has shown us time and time again that she is reliable and I trust her word." Stein placidly put, silencing him. Stein looked at Maka, who had dropped her eyes to the floor in what he could identify was guilt, but even though Stein was _perfectly aware that Soul had stolen the MP3 player, _he said nothing and shooed them out of the classroom with a backwards wave.

Maka's punishments were far more cruel – and legal – than whatever his own twisted mind could come up with, he decided, as Stevens fiercely shouted his denial with Black Star laughing obnoxiously in the background.

Meanwhile, Soul watched Maka walk ahead of him wordlessly.

His fingers touched his waistband, where the stolen MP3 player lay tucked, and a sigh escaped his lips at Maka's stubborn refusal to say a word to him.

"Maka..." Soul began, only to be cut off by her.

"What?" She snapped, tearing her eyes off the floor to stare straight ahead.

"Look... I know..." He heaved another sigh. This was going to be harder than he thought. "If lying for me was going to mess you up this bad, you should've just told Stein I really did do it. It would've been cool with me."

Maka pressed her lips together. "Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it?"

"We can still go back and turn me in, you know." Soul offered, in what he hoped was meekness because he honestly couldn't give two fucks if he had emotionally distressed that stuck-up demon weapon. He got what he wanted and he could easily live with the guilt of being a thief – however, his meister was a whole different story...

She didn't handle guilt well.

And he did not want to be the reason for the guilt – he'd rather do time than have her live with this type of regret.

"Listen, I didn't do it because I felt obligated to, I did it because I _wanted_ to!" Maka stopped in her tracks. Soul stopped a few feet behind her as well. "I'm aware that what I did was bad and I should have turned you in but I didn't...! I didn't because..." Her voice dropped some octaves, and he strained his hearing to catch the last few words: "... because that wouldn't be the cool thing to do to my - my best friend."

He was speechless.

She was willing to _lie_ for him...

A smile climbed on his face.

Maka jumped when she felt him drape an arm over her shoulders. From the corner of her eye, she could see his wide grin as he reached into his waistband and took out the MP3 player. He dangled it in front of her like a prize; the object that had managed to close the rift between them a little more.

"Pretty sweet iPod, huh? It's the new one that came out a couple of months ago. This one has a _camera_ built in!" He sang.

"Get that thing _away _from me, Soul!" Maka whined, turning her head away from the offending object. A small part of her had _hoped_ the suspicious object she felt under his waistband had been something else, but now he had to go and relieve all doubt!

"Too soon?" Soul snickered, not at all sorry. Maka shot him a nasty look. "You really _are _the coolest partner ever." His grin turned mischievous and Maka felt her stomach plummet at what was to come.

He turned her cheek roughly to the side and she felt him lay a _slobbering_ kiss on her cheek.

It would have been sweet, had not been for the saliva dripping down her cheek...

"_EW!_" Maka screeched, vigorously rubbing her cheek with the sleeve of her trench coat.

Soul slurped the drool that trickled down the corner of his mouth smugly.

He did that on purpose, too, the jerk!

"Ew! That was so _gross!_ Soul, you moron, why'd you do that for?" It didn't stop the red from splotching her cheeks, however, and Soul clutched his gut in laughter at her flustered gape.

He had to thank Black Star for that one – the look on her face had been utterly _priceless_!

"I knew it! I _knew_ I should have turned you in when I had the chance!" Maka raved, in a desperate attempt to salvage what little dignity she had. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and her cheeks were growing darker with every second he kept laughing. "That's it! Let's go back, right now! Come on, Soul, you're giving Mike back his iPod and you're going to be in _so much trouble—_!"

"Chill out, Maka, jeez, it was _just_ a kiss." Soul rolled his eyes, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her out of Shibusen. He dodged a whack to his head indifferently. "It was on the cheek, too, you wuss."

"Just a—? You _spit _all over me—!"

"Get over it! It's not like I meant it or whatever – I was kidding." Soul scoffed, which only made her fury skyrocket at his nonchalance.

That didn't stop him from smiling the entire way home – even if he had been at the end of three Maka Chop's when she remembered she brought her textbooks home that day.

* * *

**A/N: **I haven't updated in a while and I have a reason for it! I've been out of commission since I accidentally rammed a knife into the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. I was working on a final project and my hand slipped - but I _still _finished my project! I wasn't going to let a little puncture wound get to me - even if I did get a lot of blood on my project. I'm still a little annoyed by that... and, for the record, it didn't hurt at all. It was too abrupt for it to hurt, that's my reasoning lol.

Point of this Authors Note: I'm back, with brand-new material! :D

_Scarlett._


	10. Chapter 10

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlett._

* * *

_...when she's your one call from jail._

* * *

Spirit Albarn had a personal vendetta against him, of this he was positive.

The cuffs on his hands were chafing his skin.

Soul sighed as he slumped against the cold concrete of the waiting room wall; the only one still handcuffed since he was the only weapon type at the moment.

He could somewhat understand Spirit's loathe of him but he had taken it too far tonight by placing him in_ jail _for it_! _Maka had taken painstaking lengths to ensure that his record stayed crystal clean and this one stump in jail would forever stain it. He could only imagine how much of a scene she would cause when she realized just _who_ had called the cops on him in the first place.

_Note to self: do not bait Spirit about dating Maka again. _Soul duly noted, slumping down further on the bench when he caught a shady-looking man eying him. He avoided contact with the other men housed within the same room who, he was _sure_, had been convicted for far worse things than vandalizing a petty _wall_.

Lord Death did not mind his students spray painting the city walls with their imagination. The owners of the managements often put up signs on the lower portions of the buildings that alerted taggers like him or Black Star that they were allowed to decorate the wall.

There was only one rule to follow, and that was to _not _mark the wall with gang propaganda.

But creating murals, as Lord Death cheerily called it, was encouraged.

"Evans! _Evans!_"

Soul turned to the male officer who had booked him into Death City Jail with a scowl. He couldn't have shouted it any louder; at least five heads had turned to stare at him, obviously recognizing the surname.

"One phone call! Hurry up!"

He scrambled out of the holding room in a heart beat, glad to be away from the suffocating cloud of sweat and restrained fury. He had never been thrust in jail before, and the anxiety and uncertainty of being placed in a facility where the worst of the worst were detained was killing him. It was uncool to feel _unnerved _by the situation, given that he was usually collected even in the most dangerous of situations, but he couldn't help it.

Jail was not a very friendly place to be.

* * *

"_Dude – over there!" Black Star stated, pointing to the furthermost part of the wall. "You missed a spot!"_

"_Oh, crap, forgot about that." Soul muttered, and shook the can of black paint a few times. He sprayed the spot he missed, smirking. His eyes roamed the masterpiece he and his friend were creating; the skull, bones, souls, scythes and chain-sickles with their names slyly weaved within the image. "We done yet? Maka told me to be back before eight!"_

"_In a bit! We're almost done!" Black Star grinned, shaking out a can of silver paint. "Hyahaha! Only four more walls to go before everyone knows who the almighty Black Star is!"_

_Soul snorted, watching his friend quickly fill in the 'a' in his name before moving onto the next letter. "You still haven't given up on that yet? How lame."_

"_Fuck you, Soul, you thought it was a pretty damn good idea when we were younger!" Black Star snapped over his shoulder, continuing to spray the wall._

"_I was thirteen, dumbass. I thought everything you said was cool." Soul said sarcastically, rolling his eyes when Black Star hooted something similar to "damn straight!"_

_The next few moments were still a blur for Soul. A stomach-dropping siren had sounded from the street behind them and Soul barely had enough time to turn and understand what had happened before they were swarmed with officers. Black Star, he had seen from the corner of his eye, had swore colorfully and dropped his can; shouting for him to make a run for it._

_He had disappeared up on a rooftop, officers trying to track him down frantically._

"_Don't run away, you dumbass!" Soul had shouted, for the sole reason that he knew eluding capture would only worsen the charges already pressed on them. "Look, I don't know who called you on us, but we're allowed to—!"_

"_ON THE FLOOR, NOW!"_

"_Careful – he's a weapon type!"_

"_Get on the floor now! ON THE FLOOR!"_

"_What the fuck? I didn't do anything—oh, shit—!" The next thing Soul had known, he had been tackled to the dirty floor and there were at least five officers forcing his arms behind his back. He had been yanked up crudely after they cuffed him, told his rights by a stoic officer, and shoved into the back of a police car before he could collect his wits._

_The last thing he had seen before they hauled him off to jail was Spirit leaning against a lamppost, mockingly waving goodbye with a cellphone in his hand._

* * *

Soul shuffled to where the public phones hung and quickly picked up the less damaged one. The cuffs made things harder but he managed; unwilling to ask an officer to remove the cuffs for his comfort.

He didn't think he'd get a very positive reply if he did.

His eyes landed on the toll and he cursed under his breath. They couldn't make anything easy, could they? He hung the phone back and dug in his pocket the best he could. He pulled out all the change he had.

He was dryly rewarded with just enough coins to place _one_ phone call...

He did not hesitate. He dumped the coins into the slot and dialed in the one number he knew perfectly – forwards and backwards – by memory. His hand clenched around the receiver, praying that Maka would pick up the phone. He had lived with her long enough to know that she often dismissed phone calls she did not recognize in the Caller ID.

"_Hello?"_

"Maka!" Soul breathed in relief. "Thank god you answered!"

"_Soul—? Do you know what time it is? You said you'd be back before eight! It's already ten! Where are you?"_

Soul leaned against the wall, ignoring the tattooed man who waited behind him for his turn with the phone. "You'd never believe what your dumbass dad did to me _this_ time."

"_What? Papa? Soul, are you okay...?"_

She sounded worried. Soul rubbed the back of his neck, guiltily "Yeah—no, actually. I'm in jail – for vandalizing private property and, according to the reports, eluding capture and resisting an officer."

He heard her gasp, and he continued awkwardly: "So, now someone has to bail me out or I'm stuck here for the next... two weeks." He held his breath, awaiting a lecture of epic proportions, when he heard the line cut. He blinked, bewildered. Had she just _hung up _on him? "Maka? Maka! Shit..." He slammed the phone on its hook, grounding his teeth in both anger and hurt.

"Man, that was harsh." The tattooed man commented.

Soul spared him a bleak glance. "Yeah, well, it's not everyday you get a phone call saying your partners in _jail_..."

"I feel you, man." The man nodded, reaching forward to grab the phone. Soul noticed he had pierced his wrists as well. "My girlfriend dumped me when she heard I got booked for Possession."

"Possession?"

"Got caught with a bag of pot." The man grinned, and Soul returned it with a slight grin of his own although he felt less than amused. "Had to get my second girl to bail me out – heh, I guess I found out who loved me the most, huh?"

"Yeah, guess you did." Soul shifted uncomfortably. He usually avoided bad company like this, mostly because he was far above going to jail for petty crimes and because his career as a Death Scythe counted on it. This one bust to jail could ruin his entire record, and his chances of becoming Death's weapon. "Good luck getting bailed this time!"

"Yeah, thanks! You, too!" The guy nodded, dialing in a number.

_Fuck you, Spirit. _Soul thought hatefully, returning to the holding room. He caught the guarded looks tossed at him from the officers and he pretended to be unaffected by their glares. The cuffs that scratched his skin were starting to become harder and harder to ignore. He sat down on the bench, sighing bleakly again.

He was never one to lose his temper for long periods of time unlike Maka, who could stew in rage for weeks on end if he didn't suck it up and apologize.

He watched the doorway open with new criminals, each and every one shady and dangerous in their own way. He wondered if he looked just like them, too, and his mouth pressed in a grimace.

He wanted out.

Now.

But his only life-line had decided to ditch him when he needed her the most...

He didn't think Maka would just _hang up _on him like that! He understood being punished for his screw ups but this was simply insane– and he hadn't even screwed up this time! Lord Death truly didn't mind his students creating murals; the Death God often said it added character and color to his dreary little city. The images drawn on the walls also attracted tourists, given that some of them were simply amazing feats accomplished with simple spray cans or paint.

Soul reached into his pocket to take out his cellphone out of habit – only to remember a few seconds later that it had been confiscated.

His cellphone, wallet, and other personal items had been robbed from him by the officers when he first came in. He didn't even _want_ to know what his mug shot looked like; being as he had been scowling, and Maka often commented he looked rather intimidating when he scowled.

"Fuck this!" Soul swore under his breath. He was sure the clock would hit midnight soon, and he was already beginning to feel drowsy. He forced himself awake: the last thing he needed was to fall asleep in a place where criminals prowled freely; or as freely as they could _get_, with so man officers watching them like hawks.

He spent at least two hours brooding near a corner, ignoring the world around him as he glared a hole into the wall opposite to him, when he heard his dreadful surname get called again, only this time it was less aggressive than before.

"Someone paid your bail." The officer informed him, to his surprise. "You'll get processed over there, and you can pick up your stuff while you're at it." The officer pointed to the middle-aged woman who sat behind a thick glass sheet, typing away at a computer.

"Uh, any chance I can get _these _taken off me?" Soul asked hopefully, holding his hands up.

The officer chuckled, far more paternal than the first officer who had booked him. "Not a chance, kid, you're still a hazard even _if_ you got bailed. Even more so since you're a weapon type. Now, hurry up, you don't wanna' keep your girlfriend waiting!"

Soul made no effort to correct him, a weight lifted off his chest when he realized just who had bailed him, as he headed toward the middle-aged woman. It didn't take very long to get processed out. He had cringed when he caught a glimpse of his mug shot in the computer screen before the woman finally handed back his personal belongings through the slot under the bullet-proof glass.

"I don't wanna' see your face here again, kid." The woman sternly said, before he left. "You look like a good kid – I'd hate to see you come here again with even more severe charges. I hope this taught you a lesson!"

Soul smirked weakly. "Yeah, don't worry. I don't plan on comin' back here any time soon, either." He walked toward the paternal officer, who gestured him down a long corridor that would lead to his freedom.

"Alright, I think I can remove the cuffs now." The officer said, and Soul immediately rose his hands. The officer quickly undid the locks, and Soul snatched his hands back protectively. He didn't like being restrained in such a way; it made him anxious, since his arms were vital in fighting. "Safe to say you won't come back? You look like a good kid."

_What the hell? Do you they not see the teeth and eyes? _Soul thought, annoyed, but answered smoothly: "Don't worry. I don't plan on comin' back." The rest of the way was silent until he spotted Maka, nervously tapping her foot on the tile as she awaited the release of her weapon. She appeared to have only thrown on a coat and her boots. He caught glimpses of her usual green pajamas under the coat.

"Maka!" Soul shouted, and Maka breathed in relief to find him unharmed.

"Soul!" Maka ran to him, glancing at the officer who escorted him out briefly before turning her attention back to him. "Thank god you're okay!"

"Tch, why wouldn't I be?" Soul mumbled, able to regain his cool attitude despite the broody mess he had been back in the holding chamber. "This place is swarming with cops, as if any one of them could pull a fast one in here. You can't even take a piss without _someone_ watching you..."

Maka scowled and smacked him on the head. He expected it to hurt more but it was only a simple bump. He rubbed his head out a little, grinning slightly. "Ow?"

"I spoke to my papa," Maka explained, taking his hand and leading him out. The jail made Maka jumpy. She'd rather be outside, however chilly it was at the moment; it being around three in the morning. "And he cleared the charges. You were about to be processed into Nevada prison if I hadn't come for you now!"

"_What?_" Soul exclaimed, in incredulity. "I never even e_luded_ capture! Black Star did! And I never resisted – it's not my fault they're too dumb to listen to me!"

"But you _were _vandalizing a wall, right?" Maka accusingly said.

Soul faltered. "No... well, okay, so we _were—_!"

"SOUL!"

"Lord Death doesn't care!" Soul defended himself. "I've asked him permission before! He said he doesn't mind as long as it isn't gang-affiliated! And, last time I checked, _I'm not in a fucking gang!_" Soul sighed sharply and rubbed his temples with his free hand. He tightened his fingers around her own. "I just wanna' go home. I'm tired, hungry, and that noisy place gave me a killer headache..."

Maka pursed her lips, an angry retort on the tip of her tongue. She thought against it when she caught his haggard appearance; how the circles under his eyes appeared more pronounced. She felt compassion swell in her chest, and Maka stopped to pull him into a hug as she usually did when he was having a bad day.

She smiled softly when he wrapped his arms around her, sighing into her hair. She remembered the days when he would cringe and stand perfectly still, muttering something about his style getting cramped before he reluctantly returned the embrace. "You dad's a bastard, you know that?"

"Yep, I know." Maka replied, with a tiny giggle when Soul grumbled and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "Don't worry – I made sure he'll _never_ pull another stunt like this again."

Despite himself, curiosity won. "...What'd you do to him?"

"You know your bail money?"

"Yeah?"

"Took it from his bank account." Maka smugly stated.

"Isn't that illegal?" Soul wondered.

"Why would it be illegal? He's my papa and he gave me authorization to use his bank account whenever I needed it." Maka loftily stated. Her lips curled up in mischief. "And I needed it _now_, so I used it."

"That was still_ a lot_ of money..."

"Would you rather stay there for another week before you get processed into a county prison?" Maka arched a brow. Soul shook his head vigorously, pulling her closer to him if that were possible. "I'm sorry I took so long – but I had to go directly to Shibusen and ask papa to drop the charges unfairly placed on you. It's a good thing Lord Death was there, too..." She sighed in relief. "He helped relieve the charges immediately!"

Soul chuckled. "And here I thought you totally ditched me."

"Why would I ditch you?" Maka asked, crestfallen he had thought she had abandoned him. "You're my partner, Soul. I'd never leave you alone in a place like that..."

Catching the hurt in her tone, he quickly amended: "I mean, since you hung up without saying anything! I just thought...you were disappointed." Soul mumbled, jerking away from her. "Or something..."

Maka softened her eyes and smiled. "I know you, Soul. You're not stupid enough to get thrown in jail unless someone like my _dad _comes around and _calls_ the police on you!" For a second, he wondered if he should back away slowly because Maka looked absolutely murderous, before the look softened. "I'm not disappointed in you, Soul, but I _am _angry that you didn't tell me you were going out to _graffiti _with Black Star!"

Soul groaned. "If I told you _that_, you'd _never_ let me out!"

"But if you _had_ told me that, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess in the first place!" Maka said hotly, and pushed away from him. Soul sighed as he felt a lecture on its way.

He just wanted to hold Maka a little more, was that so bad? Apparently it was because, true to his gut feeling, Maka went on a tangent about his irresponsibility and the consequences for baiting her short-fused, overprotective, father.

* * *

_Note: Requested by **aviechan**._

_Scarlett._


	11. Chapter 11

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you don't need a social label to define your relationship._

* * *

"How do you do it?" Death the Kid asked, gravely as was his usual manner of speaking. He sat with a leg crossed over the other, a book resting precariously on his thigh while his friend Soul Eater rummaged for something in the inner pockets of his jacket.

"You're gonna' have to elaborate, Kid." Soul replied, finally slipping out a pack of what Kid identified were cigarettes. "I can do _a lot _of things." He smirked, and flicked the pack open. It made Kid believe this had not been the first time he had smoked but he made no comment; it was none of his business what his friends did for fun after school.

"How are you able to keep such a stable and platonic partnership with your meister?" Kid elaborated, and Soul paused mid-way in his task to light his smoke. "Even _I'm_ unable to do that – and I've been alive longer than you or Black Star combined!"

"Right, forgot immortality came with being a Death God." Soul muttered, taking a deep draw of smoke. He sunk into the bench, also crossing a leg. "What's with the sudden question?" He asked instead. "Can't find what you need in a book, for once?" He was poking a jab at the textbook on his lap but Kid remained unaffected.

"The book is for other things." Kid replied, crisply. Soul shrugged, breathing out rings of smoke idly. "My question pertains to your ability to _not _deepen the relationship with your Meister after so many years, considering how much you care for her."

"You having problems with the twins?"

Kid hesitated for a heartbeat but Soul caught it. "Not problems, necessarily... it's just - just _Patty_!"

"What'd she do _this _time? Paint the entire manor yellow with brown dots?" He sniggered.

Kid sighed, finally dropping the passive act. His fingers ran through his hair, ruining the impressive symmetry of it. Soul noticed he looked sleep deprived – the dark crests under his eyes proof of it – but all he did was take another draw of smoke. "_No! _But don't go giving her ideas, Soul!"

Soul shrugged, not promising anything.

Kid groaned. "I don't understand _any _of this! She wants something _more _with me but she doesn't seem to understand the danger of her request! It isn't just about starting a relationship – I'm a _Death God, _for crying out loud! My life capacity can reach up to _thousands_ of years! She may age slower because she's a weapon type, but she'll never be able to match me in years—not only that, but dating a God of Death isn't really the smartest thing you can do, considering the morbid job occupation I'll soon inherit once my father retires! And—!"

"Kid, shut up." Soul deadpanned. "You're just making up excuses now. Patty couldn't give two fucks for your 'job occupation'," Soul jeeringly air-quoted, "and if you're trying to tell me she'll _die _sooner than you will, then _that _should give you more of a reason to date her! It's not like anyone will mind – it's kind of obvious Patty has the hots for you, you know."

Kid heaved a sigh. "It's that obvious, is it?"

"Yeah, but we're not too sure about you." Soul admitted breezily. "You swing from being interested to totally rejecting her – I'm surprised Patty still hasn't given up on your cold ass yet."

Kid shot him a flat look. "Obviously that should tell you that my subtle rejections to her advancements hold a deeper meaning."

Soul snorted. "Dissecting peoples motives is more Maka's deal, not mine."

"Oh, really? You've shown otherwise."

"Hey, it's not my fault half the freakin' population is so see-through." Soul smirked, his mouth curling around the cigarette hanging off his lips. "I'm just cool like that." He finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into the distance, watching it land somewhere upon the dew-licked grass. "Anyway, I'd tell you to go for it. There's no use beating yourself up over all that crap – the longer you wait, the less time you have with Patty. You like her, right?"

"Well, yes, she _is_ my weapon.."

"No, you dumbass. I mean: do you _like _her?" Soul rolled his eyes at Kid's blank look. "For someone's whose lived twice as long as me, you're kinda' dumb. Do you see Patty as a _woman_, Kid, _not _a weapon?"

Kid darted his eyes forward, to the dipping sun. "Y-yes." He replied, hoarsely. "I _do _feel a strong attraction to her."

"Then, there you go!" Soul resolved, with a triumphant grin. "That's all you need to know. Just ask her out and—!"

"You don't understand." Kid quietly interrupted. "Perhaps I should have been more clear. The conflict I have is... essentially _feeling too much _for her."

"You're afraid of falling in love with her." Soul rephrased, bluntly.

Kid flinched.

Soul snorted, sinking back into the bench. He ignored Kid's curious glance in favor of gazing at the horizon that bled analogue colors of red. "So, what? You're scared that you'll love her enough to fear the day she'll die? I guess that _is_ pretty screwed up." Soul mused, sobering. "But you shouldn't push her away because of that. Since you have a time limit, you should be spending every waking moment with her, not taking me out of my house to bitch at me about your issues."

Kid snorted. "I'd be more appreciative – it's not like you're doing anything productive later."

"Oh, yeah? What if I was, huh?" Soul challenged.

Kid tossed him a dry glance.

Soul deflated. "Tch, whatever. Just go with it, Kid. I'm not really the one you should be going to for this crap – you should have asked me this a long time ago, _before_ you started to feel something for your weapon and _before_ Patty ever decided to legally enslave you."

"Enslave me?" Kid squawked, in alarm. "Does dating mean I will have to be _enslaved?_"

Soul burst out laughing. Kid was sometimes far too gullible."No, you retard. I was just kidding! Geez, don't take everything I say so seriously." He snickered at Kid's glare. "I just meant she'd be the only girl in your life."

"_Willing_ enslavement." Kid muttered with a nod.

He snorted. "Got that right."

"So, your advice to me is to simply accept her advancements, and take it all in stride?" Kid surmised, and Soul grinned.

"Yeah, now you're getting it!"

"That's _exactly_ what Black Star told me when I asked him." Kid groaned. "Only you phrased it more eloquently than he had."

Soul snorted. "Why're you so surprised? Black Star's about as eloquent as a cow in heels."

Kid smirked. "No doubt about it." He slipped his textbook under his arm and stood, taking a deep breath. "I guess there's no helping it." He smiled at Soul, who watched him lazily from his place on the bench. "Thank you for sparing a few minutes of your time to help me with this."

"Hey, no problem, that's what friends are for, right?" Soul grinned lopsidedly, sending him off with a lazy salute. "By the way, don't think so far into the future, think about the _now_, Kid!" Soul added, before Kid could leave. "Because now is what really matters. The future isn't set in stone. It changes. If you lose her now, you might never get a shot at what's real again."

Kid arched a regal brow. "My, quite the poet, are you? Have you finally let your curiosity wander and you cracked open one of Maka's poetry books?"

Soul cringed, visibly disgusted by the idea. "Hell _no_! Are you kidding me? The day I open one of Maka's gloomy poetry books is the day Spirit stops being a whore." He scathingly said, and Kid chuckled.

"Harsh." He commented. Then Kid remembered something. "By the way, you never _did_ tell me how you were able to establish a platonic partnership with Maka."

Soul shifted his eyes away and said: "I never _said _we had a platonic partnership. You came up with that on your own."

Kid's eyes grew wide. "_What? _Are you saying you two are actually...?"

The word hung in the air heavily although Kid had not spoken it.

Soul stared at his steel-toed boots before replying: "No. We're not."

"I see... then she doesn't know you hold feelings for her?" He guessed sympathetically.

"No, she knows. She's known for a long time, actually."

"I don't follow... if you're not in a normal partnership with her, then what _are_ you in?"

A secretive smile spread on his face, and he shook out another cigarette from the pack. He lit it, taking a draw of smoke as he took his leisure time in replying to Kid's perplexed question. "We go on dates and we do regular stuff couples do, but we're not _together_. Not officially, anyway. She hasn't had the best experience with relationships considering how her parents turned out, so asking her out officially would be reckless. She's still new to this. I'll just wait until she _can _handle us so she won't ruin everything with her big, stupid, brain..." He scoffed, fondly. Kid watched the softness his usually detached crimson eyes took curiously. "That's why we're not dating – not officially. She's just mine, like I'm _hers_. And that's enough. It's cool with me if we remain that way for a while."

Kid nodded, somewhat dazed. "I see. You're so comfortable with her that we never noticed you two had some semblance of a relationship together..."

Soul coughed, awkwardly, knowing he had completely gone over-the-top with his speech. "Yeah, sure, whatever... hey, Kid, you got any gum on you?"

"No, but I have mints. Why?"

"Damn, that'll have to do...'cause Maka's gonna' _slaughter _me when she smells me tonight!" He complained. "She hates my _cool _new habit."

"With good reason, too, smoking is hazardous for your respiratory health; no matter how 'cool' it is. But what do you mean by smell, can't you just—_oh_," Kid mumbled, when he caught the mischievous twinkle in his friends eyes.

"Yeah, _exactly_. The good thing about telling Patty you like her – you can get all the _ass_ you want and not even have to pay for it like Spirit does." Soul grinned saucily at the shock on the Death God's face, the red that had begun to flood his usually pale cheeks.

"Lord, Soul, you're _shameless!_" Kid gaped.

"No – I'm _honest_." Soul quipped. "And chicks dig that. Or at least Maka does, sometimes." He held his hand out expectantly, and Kid rolled his eyes and dumped a few tic tacs into his palm.

"I see you _were _planning on doing something productive tonight." Kid muttered sarcastically, as Soul tossed the mints into his mouth. "Forgive me for delaying your plans..."

"Ever noticed Maka's been less grouchy these past few weeks?" Soul said, ignoring Kid's sarcasm. "You can thank _me _for that – Black Star sure does. _Never _lets me forget..." He seethed, annoyed with the assassin and his cheeky comments.

"There's a flaw in your reasoning – _I_ don't get chopped on the head with books like the both of you do." Kid deadpanned. "I have more tact, and better timing."

"Sure, rub it in our faces, we don't care." Soul sniffed, mock-offended. "Anyway, gotta' go. She's probably getting impatient and—!"

"Please, just stop. I really _don't _want to know what goes on between you two when you're alone." Kid groaned, plugging his ears as Soul grinned.

"Suit yourself. Catch you later, Kid! Good luck with Patty!"

Kid nodded, although Soul would never see it because he had turned his back already. The Death God glanced at the sky again. The sun had already set, the heavens a darkening midnight blue, and he glanced at the textbook tucked under his arm thoughtfully.

"I suppose studying could be put off tonight. Father would surely not mind." Kid murmured to himself, slowly walking down the paved path that would lead him back to Gallows Mansion. "Patty... likes spaghetti." He stopped mid-step. "And lemon-aid because the color reminds her of giraffes."

Maybe he would take her out for dinner tonight.

* * *

**A/N: **For the record, I'm pretty neutral with Kid and his love interests. I just thought it would be cute for Patty to be pinning after Kid.

Gasp. Soul smokes? I always thought that would be cool, so I figured Soul would, too xD C'mon, can't you just imagine him doing that? With his badass leather jacket and motorcycle?

Also, I might post up a very late Valentine's Day one-shot in a couple of hours. Just because I remembered _way _late that I wrote one two weeks before the Hallmark holiday. God, I'm so absentminded XD

_Scarlett._


	12. Chapter 12

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet._

* * *

_...when you believe him when he says, "I promise to come back."_

* * *

"Whoa, Maka, watch out!" Ox exclaimed, in alarm. He managed to catch the knife that had been making its trip downward to stab into her foot. "Be _careful, _would you? The first rule of knife handling is to never _drop_ it, you moron!"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention." Maka weakly smiled, glancing at the knife in his hand with troubled eyes. She clenched her fists; she needed to get her head out of the clouds.

The Shibusen track field was long and wide, extending several yards to allow its students to properly train. The midday sun was hot, scorching her skin, and she looked away from the bright light to focus on her friendly rival Ox Ford.

"Hey, are you _sure_ you're alright?" Ox eyed her. She had been subdued for the past few weeks, the usual sparkle in her emerald eyes and bright smile missing from the ensemble. She had secluded herself to the library although that was nothing out of the ordinary: Maka was famously known for being an avid reader, and most of her time was usually spent in the quiet confines of the Shibusen library anyway. However, from his own visits there, he knew she didn't read when she sat in her usual spot toward the back.

He spent a whole ten minutes pretending to search for a book nearby a table where Maka sat and she hadn't turned a single page. This could be because perhaps she was drawing a conclusion from the text, but there had been no paper or pencil to write her ideas on; perhaps she was pondering the theories mentally but she appeared blank and glass-eyed, as if lost in another thought.

He came to the conclusion that Maka Albarn was depressed.

It was strange to see her depressed. She had her typical bouts of it but she was drawn out of it fairly quickly by her partner or their friends. But he supposed this type of depression could only be cured by _one_ person, and Ox had a feeling it was her trusted Deathscythe.

Soul Eater was an exceptional Deathscythe. Maka had trained him spectacularly and it reflected in the way Lord Death sent him on various assignments by himself and he always returned victorious and baring an excellent report on the details of the mission. Some of Maka's peculiar habits had rubbed off on the usually slothful scythe, but it was something that helped him complete his missions more efficiently.

He heard Soul, along with Stein, Sid, and Nygus, had been shipped off to the icy tundra of Alaska to complete an assignment. The objective of the mission was unclear to him but all he needed to know was that it was a dangerous assignment, and the survival rate was startling low for a beginner Deathscythe like Soul.

"Hey, how about we go get some coffee?" Ox suggested. Although Maka and he got off on the wrong foot, they had become good friends over the years. Often, they were assigned Meister-only missions together and they executed them proficiently. They had gotten to know each other better, realizing that _maybe_ the other wasn't as bratty or nasty as they had first believed them to be. "It's on me, yeah?"

Maka shook her head. "Thanks, Ox, but I have some things to take care of at home. Blair's moving out today to live with her boyfriend so she needs help transferring her things to her new apartment."

"Ah, I see." Ox nodded, understandingly. "Well, if you need someone to talk to," he cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders stiffly, "feel free to come to me, of course." He felt he needed to say that: Maka had saved him a lot of thinking when it came down to Kim, and it was because of her encouragement and advice that he mustered up the courage to ask her out for _real; _not just spewing out random ideas that inevitably got him rejected, or kicked in the face...

Maka smiled. "Thanks, Ox." She looked to her right, where she could see the outlines of Black Star and Kid sparing on the other side of the field. She caught Tsubaki's high pony tail and actually heard Patty's mad laughter from where she stood. "Well, I better get going now, before Blair gets angry at me for being late. Tell everyone else I'm not in the mood for hanging out later, okay? I'll see you around, Ox!"

"Yeah, sure..." Ox trailed off, watching Maka walk away. He noticed something as she walked.

She was slightly hunched, not really straight; almost _slouching_.

As if reading his mind, Maka straightened and squared her shoulders.

Ox smiled.

He supposed some of her partners habits had also rubbed off on her.

* * *

The walk to her apartment was unusually silent.

Maka glanced to her side, dropping her eyes at the absence of her partner. She clenched her hand a few times, aching to feel the cold metal of her scythe, before she hid it behind her and picked up her pace.

She needed to stop thinking about him.

"Nya! Maka-chan, welcome back! You're just in time! Blair's honey just dropped by!" Blair cheerfully greeted, squeaking when something broke inside the box she held in her arms. "Whoopsies! Blair will fix that when she gets home!" Blair giggled, then placed the box back down and hurried back to Soul's room. "Oh, right, Maka-chan! Can you please help Blair pack?"

"Yeah, sure." Maka said, tossing her coat on the couch. "How much more do you need to pack?"

Blair popped out of the closet, a bra on her head. Maka rolled her eyes and plucked it off, raising a brow at the impressive cup sizes. This woman would be the death of men all around the world one day. "A lot." Blair admitted. "Blair magically altered Soul-kun's closet to fit all her clothes!"

"Whoa!" Maka gasped, when she walked into his closet. It was _huge! _Blair had done more than magically enhance his closet, she had converted it into a freakin' third _bedroom_! If it weren't for the cubbyholes and shelves on each side, some holding shoes and other accessories, this could easily pass for a bedroom. "And you've kept this from us _how long_?"

Blair snickered. "You never asked, Maka-chan, so Blair never told you." Blair proceeded to dump her things into the boxes she had laid out and Maka eventually lost her interest in the giant closet and began to help her. They finished faster than Maka would have liked, with what Blair's magic hurrying things along, and before long Maka was loading the last of the boxes in the sleek black Jaguar outside of the complex, where Blair's boyfriend waited patiently.

"If it weren't for your magic, all of those boxes would have _never_ fit in the trunk..." Maka commented, stepping back to observe her work. Nothing seemed out of place, everything was packed and ready. All that was left were the _goodbyes_...

Blair beamed. "Blair's magic comes in handy, no?" Then she softened her face and took a careful step forward. "Blair doesn't want to leave Maka-chan all alone without Soul-kun. Are you _sure _it's okay for Blair to leave now? I can stay until Soul-kun comes back, if you want...Blair doesn't mind."

"Of course I'm fine, Blair! Don't worry about me. You've wanted to move in with this guy for weeks! Soul will be back soon, his mission is just taking a little longer than I anticipated it would!" Maka assured, flustered.

"Soul-kun has been away for a month..." Blair trailed off. She gave Maka a tight hug when her friend cast a gloomy glance at her shoes. "Soul-kun will be fine! Blair is sure of it!"

Maka patted her back, smiling halfheartedly. "He better be," was all she said, before she bade her goodbye properly and sternly lectured her boyfriend on the importance of fidelity and putting her happiness as first priority.

"Maka-chan is a _Deathscythe_ meister!" Blair cheerfully informed, thinking he would be impressed. He just swallowed.

"That means I reserve the right to kick your sorry ass if you make her cry." Maka grinned, menacingly. "I'd watch my step if I were you."

Blair beamed joyously, her boyfriend pale as a sheet.

Maka spent that evening on the couch, with a blanket drawn up to her chin. She watched the television blandly, making sure to record a few shows Soul had asked her to while she was at it. The apartment was unusually silent, dark and dreary, without the raucous voice of Blair or Soul's soft jazz tracks.

She found herself wistfully wishing it could be like before: Blair would molest Soul, she would screech in a jealous rage and knock him out with a book or whatever was at her disposal, and Blair would cackle and Soul would complain, clutching his swimming head... and she would yell and he would yell and they'd both get mad but they'd make up a few hours later and everything would be fine again...

Sighing, she reached forward to grab a mug of hot chocolate and nostalgically felt the rim of it. Soul made killer hot chocolate, adding extra ingredients that he _refused _give her insight to, and every cup always left her feeling warm and cozy.

Her own version was vastly downgraded but it was still good, although the rush of warmth usually disappeared after a few seconds unlike when Soul made it.

Maka carefully balanced the cup on the armrest and resigned herself to another night spent watching dumb infomercials or reruns of shows she had seen earlier that evening. About a quarter before midnight, her eyes began to droop, and Maka nodded off, straining to keep her eyes open but ultimately falling victim to drowsiness.

What woke her up a few hours later was her cup, which she felt was falling. Or at least she thought it was falling, until she became conscious enough to realize someone was _taking it out of her hand!_

She acted on reflex.

Maka snapped her eyes open and flinched back, about to smash the cup into the perpetrators face until a familiar: "WAIT—NO! It's me! Soul!" paused her mid-way. Maka breathed hard from the fright, staring wide-eyed into Soul's uneasy gaze.

The room was alight with the dim glow from outside, telling Maka that it was somewhere between five or six in the morning. Soul stood before her, tense and waiting, dressed down in his usual attire; black jeans, a black shirt, and black shoes. His hair was in its usual messy state but she noticed he had a slash on his cheek and one near his collarbone, too.

"Jesus, Soul." Maka sighed in relief, sinking back into her seat spinelessly. "You scared me!" The television had been turned off and she had fallen asleep on the couch again; _that _was made known when a pain in her lower back erupted.

"Yeah, just think how _I_ felt when you nearly broke that cup on my head!" Soul glowered and, despite the biting comment, Maka felt a swell of relief warm her heart.

"When did you get back? I didn't feel you come in." Maka said, disentangling herself from the blanket. She winced as she cracked her back. She was going to be sore all day.

"Like an hour ago." Soul answered. "I took a shower. Man, I haven't had one of _those_ in a while!" He grinned at her disgusted face.

"What, they don't have hot water in Alaska?"

"Too cold to shower." Soul shrugged. "Tried it once and nearly froze my ass off outside."

Maka snorted. "So you spent all of these weeks without showering? That's disgusting, Soul! You better have showered well!"

"For your information, I _did_! I even washed my hair three times!" Soul defended, but Maka just laughed. His expression softened, and he allowed his ears to bask in the sound of her tinkling laughter. He missed it terribly while he was on the assignment; Stein's creepy laughter got boring after the first few times.

"I thought you said you'd be back in two weeks." Maka casually commented. Soul looked up to gauge her expression but she had her back turned to him, rolling up the blanket she had kicked off in her uneasy sleep.

"It was _supposed_ to be two weeks but it got extended when we realized what was really going on. It was more than just a house of witches, it was practically a breeding ground for kishin eggs and insanity." He sighed, remembering all of the fighting that gone down. He was sore from it. "So, we had to stay for a couple more days to make sure we got rid of every kishin and witch on the factory grounds."

"Oh." Maka nodded, although she was relieved to find nothing majorly wrong with him. He sounded exhausted, the black crests under his eyes more pronounced than usual, but he was fine; it was nothing rest couldn't fix. "That's good. I take it you guys were successful?"

Soul smirked. "Duh."

Maka smiled and, after a second of deliberation, she turned and threw her arms around him. His breath hitched, frozen in her arms, but his muscles relaxed soon and he returned the sudden embrace tightly.

"Did you miss me that much?" Soul teased, chuckling at her huff. "I promised I'd come back, didn't I?"

Maka smiled, her first genuine smile in weeks. "I know. And I believed you." She cleared her throat when he didn't let go, instead tightening his arms around her to keep her in place. "Are you sure _you _didn't miss _me?_" Maka suspiciously asked, although she didn't mind being in his arms longer than was necessary.

Soul grinned with mischief. "I missed your nagging in the morning to get out of bed—OUCH!" He groaned when she pinched the back of his neck. "Ow, ow, _ow_... Damn, you got me in my blind spot. No fair, _Makaaa!_" He whined, wincing when she gave the skin one last twist before letting go.

"Suck it up, you asked for it!"

She was _probably _right, as usual, not that he was going to admit it.

"_You _were the one who hugged me first..." Soul grumbled, casting a sideways glance at the clock. It would be six soon. He wouldn't last all day with how tired he was...

"_You're_ the one who didn't let go."

Soul rolled his eyes and yawned in her ear. "_Awww_, man, I need sleep! Are you gonna' go back to bed or stay awake?"

"Bed." Maka firmly said. She still felt tired and her back ached to sink into the soft springs of her mattress. "My back hurts..." She mumbled, imagining how good it would feel once she managed to walk to her room and sleep for a few more hours.

"Then let's get you to bed." Soul smiled, pushing her backwards into the hall. She protested, wanting to walk on her own, but Soul didn't let her go; pushing her ajar door open with his hand and pushing her toward her bed, until her knees bumped against the edge of her mattress and she fell back.

"I could have walked here on my own!"

"You're so loud." Soul yawned, still standing to look over her. "It's _way_ too early for you to be shouting so much..."

"Maybe if you hadn't walk me all the way to my room, I wouldn't be yelling." Maka simply said, shifting so she was on her side. She cast him a curious look when he didn't move. "Aren't you going to sleep, Soul...?"

He put his thoughts on hold and nodded, bleary-eyed. "Yeah, I'm going. See you at four."

"Four?" Maka blinked. "In the _evening?_"

Soul grinned tiredly, hand on the knob of her door. "Yep." He shut it behind him, and Maka sunk back in her bed, now on her back. Her eyes darted back to the door, which remained shut. After a few more seconds, the silence of the house deafening, Maka shifted out of her bed and walked over to her door.

She walked to his bedroom and wasted no time nudging him closer to the wall, ignoring the way he cracked an eye open and asked what she was doing gruffly.

"God, why didn't you just do that earlier?" Soul griped through a yawn, rolling over so she could slide into bed with him. "_Damn_ _tired..._"

Maka opened her mouth to reply when she saw his eyes had closed already, his arm thrown over her chest idly. She grabbed his arm and hugged it to her chest, closing her eyes with a soft smile as he grunted something about needing a vacation, rolled to face her, and threw his arm around her to pull her closer drowsily.

"Would've been nice to have you in Alaska..." Soul mumbled. "Warm as _hell_..."

Maka snorted. "Go to sleep already!"

"On it..."

* * *

**A.N: **I couldn't reply to your reviews because FFN decided that disabling _all _of my alerts would be dandy! So, I just read them from the reviews page and giggled at some. You guys rock :) And, for some reason, this one-shot depresses me. It might be the fact that I can chop it into two separate chapters but instead I gave it away as a whole xD

God. I need sleep. I only slept two hours last night =.= I wonder if I'll regret posting this chapter up in the morning, when I'm more awake... hmm...

Also, I'm _still _taking requests for this collection, for those of you who are wondering :D

_Note: requested by **Reminescence3701.**_

_Scarlett._


	13. Chapter 13

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_... when you let them see you at your girliest (or gayest)._

* * *

It wasn't a surprise that one would think Maka Albarn disliked the more feminine aspects of being a girl.

She was tough and wise; not bothering herself with the time-consuming grooming of her hair or doing of her nails, so the majority of the Shibusen population believed. But with good reason: Maka had never come to school dolled up nor did she put much thought into her dress wear, as she came in the Shibusen Spartoí uniform faithfully. Her hair was styled simply, in pigtails, and she hadn't customized her outfit like her friends aside from the blazer, which had been extended to brush the floor similar to her old trench coat.

However, the majority of the Shibusen population was wrong.

One didn't have soft, creamy, and fine skin as Maka did naturally. Oh, no – Soul had to pound on the door of the bathroom _seven_ _times_ to tell her to hurry it up because she was taking too long washing her face and applying all sorts of lotions in the morning.

If anyone had taken any time to notice, Maka always smelled delicious; like a recently baked pastry. The sweet rush of vanilla intertwined with strawberries always made his mouth water, although he did better at resisting the urge to drool now.

She did her hair – she straightened it faithfully, careful to not heat the flat-iron too hot and damage her hair, before she tied it up into her signature pigtails. Then she neatly gelled stray hairs back against her head, adding bobby pins to ensure they would stay in place further into the day.

She shaved her legs until they were silky smooth, ensuring to lotion them up to maintain them hydrated and soft. She even shaved her arms! And those, too, were feather soft to the touch.

Her room had a rather girlish color scheme of pinks and violets; and he _knew, _no matter how much Maka denied it, that she cuddled to a teddy bear her mother had given her (before she left to travel the world) at night.

Overall, only Soul truly knew that Maka was as girly as they came.

Soul watched lazily as Maka sank back into the armchair and whipped out a nail filer from a small, purple, bag. He watched her file her nails quickly, blow on them, then continue on her other hand. Then he watched her take out a curious metal instrument, to which she proceeded to remove the cuticles from each of her fingers idly.

"Hey, Maka, it's your turn to cook tonight." Soul reminded, pausing her task.

"Oh, yeah, it is!" Maka realized, and he watched her place the object back into the bag. "What do you feel like eating tonight?"

"Anything you make is good." Soul shrugged.

Maka smiled, but persisted: "Are you sure? I'm in the mood for curry but we ate that two days ago..."

"Hmm... curry sounds fine – make it extra spicy, would you?"

Maka nodded. "Okay – oh, and Tsubaki dropped off a pie earlier today! So we can eat that afterward, if you like."

"Pie!" Soul shot up, eagerly. "... is it apple?"

"Yes."

"Sweet!" Soul grinned. "It's homemade, right?"

"Yep!"

"_Yes_...!" Soul sighed, contently. He felt like drooling again. "Tsubaki makes the _best_ pies..."

"Mmhmm!" Maka smiled, then he watched her cross her leg and take out the nail filer again. She took longer this time, pursing her lips at a stubborn corner that did not want to round. When she finally got it rounded, she smiled in satisfaction and gazed at her nails critically. She mostly did this because it was very painful when a nail chipped during battles, since she was most active with her hands.

Soul quickly looked away when she took out a bottle of nail polish.

He grabbed the remote, desperately flipping through channels to give him something to do. He wondered if he should stand up and go to his room _now _before it was too late.

"Hey, Soul..."

He flipped through the channels faster. He should've gone to his room.

"...could you help me paint my right hand?"

He stopped on a movie and mumbled: "Can't you do it by yourself?"

"No, I'm really clumsy with my left hand! Please, Soul?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Come on! You've never had any problems doing it before!" Maka said, upset. "What's the problem now?"

"It's not cool for a _guy_ to paint _nails_, Maka." Soul reminded, witheringly.

"Oh, who cares if it's cool or not! It's not like anyone but me is going to know!" Maka snapped, scowling at his disobedience. He was usually so inclined to help her but now he refused to paint her nails? He was lucky she wasn't lecturing him about putting the milk carton back in the fridge after he drank from it! "Soul!"

He grumbled under his breath, tossing the remote on the coffee table in defeat. "Alright, get over here! I'm not coming to you." He heard her silently cheer and, despite the irritation of always being the one to do her right hand, he sighed resignedly when she plopped beside him and shoved the bottle of transparent nail polish in his hand.

"I got a new bottle yesterday!" Maka sang. "This one dries in sixty seconds!"

Soul chuckled at her enthusiasm, taking her hand. He turned to her, placing the bottle of transparent nail polish on his knee precariously. "Great, at least you won't have me blowing on them for too long..."

"I don't make you blow on them!" Maka pouted. "I only did that once because it was late and I wanted to go to sleep!"

Soul rolled his eyes, taking the brush and running it over her first nail. He _hated_ how this was so easy to do now, unlike before, when he'd mess up and paint outside the nail. "Guess that taught you not to do this before your _bedtime_."

"I don't have a bedtime!"

"Yes, you do. It's nine 'o clock on the dot." He smirked at her scowl. "You gotta' get your ten hours or else you're grouchy."

"Are you done yet?" Maka mumbled, annoyed.

"Almost. Just need your thumb nail." He dipped the brush back into the bottle again before running it over her thumb nail carefully. He rose her hand up to the light, angling it in certain ways to catch the shine on her nails. When he saw he had not missed a spot, he lowered it and screwed the brush back into the bottle. "Done..."

"Thanks!" Maka brightly smiled, and his irritation disappeared. "Hmm.. now all I have to do are my eyebrows!" She cringed. "I hate that."

"Don't mess up like last time." He sniggered. He was silenced by a smack upside his head. "Ouch! What? It's not my fault Kid pointed out one of them was thinner than the other!"

"_Shut up_, Soul, it's not as easy as it looks!" Maka growled. "It _hurts_, and then evening them out is a pain..."

Contemplatively, Soul said: "I bet I can do a better job than you."

Maka rose a brow. He noticed, upon further inspection, that she _did_ need to pluck her brows again. "Seriously? I don't believe you. You've never even done _your_ brows!"

"Have so – Tsubaki did them for me when Black Star dared me." He paused, reaching up to touch the center between his brows. "Well, the middle part anyway..."

"Doesn't count."

Soul scowled. "Hand me the plucker-thing."

"They're called _tweezers, _genius_._" Maka smartly said.

"Whatever." He snorted, holding his hand out expectantly. "Hand it over. I'll show you right now!"

Maka hesitated, reaching into her purple makeup bag to pull it out. "Um... I don't think this is a good idea. You've never done this before, so..."

"Maka, trust me, I think I can pull out hair without screwing up too bad." Soul sarcastically said but Maka was not consoled.

"_Too bad?_ No, thanks! The last thing I need is for you to ruin my eyebrows! I don't need Kid shouting it to the entire world!"

"I _won't!_" Soul insisted. He snatched the metal instrument from her hand and held it over his head so she couldn't reach for it when she lunged. "Just cool it and let me handle this – Maka _– quit it!_ Lie down!"

"No, I change my mind! Give it back, Soul! SOUL!"

"No way – just lie – _down_!" Soul managed to push her down, grabbing her shoulder and flipping her around so her head laid on his lap. Maka glared up at him, eyes a dark forest green. He just smiled smugly, dangling the tweezers over her before experimentally trying them out. It didn't seem that hard to do; all he had to do was reach down and pluck out hair, right? Plus, he had a good idea of how Maka's brows were supposed to be shaped. He just had to pluck out the extra hairs.

That didn't sound hard at all!

"OW! S-Soul, watch it, you got my skin!"

"Whoa, my bad..." Soul mumbled, treading more carefully now.

Maka kept still, eyes closed, as she allowed her partner to work on her eyebrows. Despite herself, she gnawed on her lip nervously. Every pluck caused her to stiffen but she didn't flinch as she did when she first began to pluck her brows. The beginning had been painful, and Maka had often doubted that modifying ones brows was even necessary. She didn't have that much extra hair surrounding her brows, why pluck them?

Liz had eventually convinced her to, after doing them herself and teaching her as she did, and since then Maka had done her brows when she saw they were losing their shape.

"OW!"

"Quit squirming!"

"I swear if - ow! SOUL!"

"I said to stop moving around!" Soul snapped. "Just hold still!"

Maka ground her teeth but obliged, clenching her hands every time he screwed up and plucked her skin instead. She would get him back, somehow...

"Done with the right one!" Soul finally said, and Maka shot up. She ignored Soul's quick "_whoa!_" at being able to avoid a frontal-cortex collision with her head in favour of digging around in her makeup bag for a mirror.

"Hey... it's not that bad." Maka stated, in surprise. She ran her finger delicately over her curved brow. The skin was red from where he'd accidentally pinched skin but overall he managed to reshape her brow. It was just as she wanted it to be, actually. "You did a pretty great job, Soul."

"_Told_ you I could do it!" Soul haughtily said. Then he frowned, deflated. "Man, I feel so _gay_ right now..."

Maka giggled. "Hey, contrary to common belief, it's actually cool when a guy knows how to do all this stuff!" She laid back down, placing the mirror on her stomach as she stared up at her partner earnestly. "Can you do my left one now? And try not to get my skin this time, would you?"

"I never said I was gonna' do_ both_." Soul scoffed. "I just wanted to prove a point."

"Why _not?_" Maka whined. "You did the right one, you might as well do the left one!"

"Nah... maybe later, when I feel like it—ow ow ow _OW_ – ALRIGHT I'LL DO IT!" Soul shouted. He glared at his meister, who had pinched and twisted the skin on his stomach until he complied with her orders. "Geez, you're so quick to resort to violence. So not cool..."

"Hey, Soul?"

"Hn?"

"...You need to _shave_."

"Shuddup, as if you'd know anything about shaving."

Maka grinned, retaliation gleaming in her eyes, and Soul cursed his big mouth.

* * *

**A/N: **I was doing my nails and got this idea. Bleh.

_Scarlett._


	14. Chapter 14

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you can have lazy conversation with him._

* * *

Her eyes were growing heavy but her mind was restless with thoughts, the longer the television droned on. The sun wasn't even close to setting: it was only noon. School had been canceled today because it was a national holiday and, although she had gotten enough hours of sleep and she had woken up early to cook breakfast as usual, drowsiness had captured her in its net by midday.

She shifted on the recliner, her book cuddled to her chest. Her body temperature was dropping with every droop of her eyes, causing her to shiver. She clutched the book to her chest, glassy-eyed as she stared unseeingly into the television.

Soul walked into the living room, holding his guitar in his hand with a scowl.

Her drowsiness was warded off for the time being. "What's wrong?"

"Snapped a string on my guitar while I was tuning it." He frustratingly sighed. "Hate it when that happens." She watched, curiously, as he sat himself on the couch and shook out a coil of string from its package. She had never seen him tie on a guitar string before so she watched silently as he tore the broken one off and replaced it carefully.

"How come you didn't do that in your room?" Maka asked, unable to help herself.

"Too dark." He replied, absently. She watched him tighten a knob on the guitar, plucking the string once. "'Sides, I was bored of staying in my room all day. I wanted to see what you were up to but you're just reading – as usual."

"I don't _always _read."

"Doing homework or studying doesn't count."

Maka scowled and turned away from him, too fatigued to verbally complain. Instead, she threw her book at him and sighed when he dodged and smirked; not removing his eyes from his task. She could bet he felt smug because of that and, instead of crushing that pride as she usually did, she gazed at the ceiling.

It wasn't like she had been trying to hit him, anyway.

Her eyes grew heavy again, a few thoughts having been startled away with his abrupt entrance. Her body sunk into the recliner lazily. She was sitting on it awkwardly, with her legs dangling over the armrest. She vaguely thought her back would suffer once she awoke from her nap but she felt too fatigued to actually bother to move.

"Hey!" Soul whistled, startling her sleepiness momentarily. "Don't fall asleep like that! Your back's gonna' hurt like hell when you wake up later!"

Maka grunted, letting her head hang back. She shut her eyes tightly, unwilling to leave the uncomfortable yet comfortable position. The window sat behind her, so a few rays of warm sunlight bathed her skin a healthy golden. If she moved, she would be removed from the suns rays, and she would be cold in her sleep.

"Maka!"

"I _know_..." She growled, voice slightly hoarse. "I'm going!"

"Hey, you alright? You sound kinda' sick." Soul asked, watching with veiled worry as she slowly righted herself on the recliner. She stood up, cracking her back, and wordlessly stalked over to the couch where he sat.

"Move over..." She mumbled, dropping stomach first onto the sofa. Her feet kicked his thighs over, telling him to either find another spot or make himself comfortable somehow.

"Yeah, kick me off, I don't care." Soul sarcastically muttered, pushing her feet away and walking over to the recliner she had been previously dozing on. Maka made no comment, opting for stretching out on the couch like a cat. Her sleepy eyes watched Soul as he plucked a few more strings on his guitar. Although he was merely tuning it, the sounds were slowly lulling her to sleep. She was caught between wakefulness and sleep, unable to fall into a fitful rest with her partner hovering close by, when she heard him gently strum a song.

The song was so soft, like the petals of a flower, that her mind succumbed to her fatigue. It was a losing battle to stay awake and listen to his playing because every strum made her eyes feel heavier and heavier.

"What's... it called?" Maka barely had enough energy in her to ask.

"Dunno'. Just some song I heard on the radio." Soul shrugged. "I only remember the bridge."

"It's nice." Her breathing became shallow.

"Yeah, it was pretty good." Soul said, picking out a few more chords. "The lead singer's voice reminded me of another band I know."

"Which...one...?"

Soul softly snorted. "You wouldn't know them. All you listen to is drum and bass. A little better than trance fusion, but it's still horrible."

"Oh..." Maka sleepily mumbled, not entirely following the conversation. "'Kay...keep playing." And she was asleep.

Soul paused, looking up to see his meister had fallen into a sound sleep. The last chord thrummed in the air for a few more seconds before disappearing completely. He tapped the pad of his hand against the fingerboard, watching her sleep.

She was smiling, likely due to the fact that he actually played for her; although it didn't really count, since she had been too drowsy to enjoy the sounds he produced. He ran his pick down a few strings, looking up again. She didn't stir, the smile still clinging to her lips. She breathed in deeply instead and rolled on her back, a hand fisted loosely on her chest. Her hair was loose today, tumbling over the edge of the couch in wavy strips.

Soul glanced back down at his guitar and made himself comfortable on the recliner, returning to his task of picking out the chords to a song he heard on the radio.

Maka's smile never disappeared, even as she slept.

* * *

**A.N: **Almost every song from the band _Lydia_ reminds me of Soul and Maka. I wrote this while I was listening to them... :D

_Note: dedicated to **MusicSoundsMySoul 14. **It may not be what you requested, but it's close enough, right? _

_Scarlett._


	15. Chapter 15

**You Know You Trust You Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you trust him not to let you fall._

* * *

This was ridiculous.

What did this activity have _anything _to do with Soul Resonance rates? Maka was sure the teacher had misread the instructions somehow because this was just a disaster waiting to happen.

"Now! I want each and every one of you to be able to execute this activity successfully at least _once _by the end of class!Is that clear?"

Maka suddenly wished Professor Stein hadn't called in absent today, as Marie Mjolnir substituted in his place. The kind and cheerful woman was not disliked by Maka but she was _sure_ that the activity the woman had announced earlier today had been misread!

Maka nervously swallowed as she stood with her back turned to Black Star. "A-are you ready, Black Star?"

"I told you already – _yes_! God, Maka, just fall already!"

"Shut up – you were _so _not ready last time, you jerk! You would've let me fall! I _saw_ you talking to Kilik!"

"Well, I'm ready now!" Black Star defended, Kilik and he exchanging meaningful looks of mischief that were not missed by the scythe technician. "Let's get this over with – gods have better things to do than catch damsels in distress—Holy crap!" He squawked, just missing a blow from Maka's textbook.

"That's it! I'm not doing this!" Maka firmly declared, slamming her textbook upon a desk. The slam echoed throughout the room, startling everyone into a tense silence. "I _refuse_ to do this activity with you!"

"Maka, dear, is something wrong?" Marie inquired, watching both meister's steam in rage worriedly.

"I refuse to put my trust in that idiot!" Maka scathingly explained, arms crossed over her chest. "He'll drop me – I heard him talking about it to Kilik!"

Black Star sputtered. "No, we weren't! I was so gonna' catch Maka..."

"Liar!" Maka accused. "I'm _blindfolded, _you jerk-off, not _deaf_."

"Tch, could've fooled me, flatty!" Black Star sneered.

"Okay! Okay!" Marie shouted over their rising voices. "Everyone settle down! Maka, Black Star, choose another partner!"

"There _are_ no more." Maka replied, coolly. "The class is split evenly – everyone has a partner as of this point."

"Oh, my, well..." Marie murmured, concernedly. She appeared nervous now, as if not knowing what to do in such a situation, before her blue eyes lit up again. "Oh, I know! You two can take turns with me!"

Maka and Black Star stared candidly.

"Okay." Maka agreed, stiffly.

"No _way!_ That's so lame! Why can't Soul and I do it?" Black Star shouted, causing Marie to wince. The boy had a good set of vocals on him, she weakly acknowledged.

"No, no, Soul is partnered with Jackie right now!" Marie dismissed, oblivious to the way Jackie was having difficulties falling back into Soul's arms like the activity requested. Maka noticed that many people had difficulty with the activity, mostly because Marie had assigned the partners at random instead of keeping them in their usual weapon-mesiter combo, and she heaved a sigh when Marie ushered them down to the front of the class.

"Okay, you two. Once will do! Now, why don't you go first?" Marie directed to Black Star, who grinned and nodded; obviously smug he had been selected first. "Black Star, fall—!"

"Nuh uh! _You _do it first!" Black Star demanded, ignoring the unease that crossed Marie's face. "I'll catch you Ms. M – you can trust a god!" He laughed obnoxiously while Marie steeled herself, nodding firmly.

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt. Okay, on the count of three!" Marie said cheerfully, after blindfolding herself. "Are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah..." Black Star sniggered.

Maka watched as Marie prepared herself, Black Star grinning wickedly.

Maka had a bad feeling about this.

"One!"

"Two!"

"_Three_—!"

Maka gasped and darted to where Black Star had once been, catching Marie's whole weight with a wheeze. She shot a nasty glare at Black Star, who laughed hysterically along with Kilik, who stood ways away, while Marie took off the blindfold and checked behind her.

"That was great Black—Oh, Maka! What are you—?"

"Black Star let you fall!" Maka cuttingly told her, and Marie shot a look of surprise at the boy who was clutching his gut in laughter; Kilik hiding his grin behind his hand. A few other students were also snickering with them. Maka was annoyed to see Soul smirking from the upper rows, obviously having seen the scene unfold. "That dumbass – this was why I didn't want to do this with him! He'll let us fall – you can't trust that moron!"

"Well. He's getting an _F_ on the assignment and I'll make sure Stein knows of his misbehavior!" Marie angerly said. She patted Maka's head as she straightened. "Black Star – to the office, now!"

"_What?_" He gawked, laughter abruptly choking off. "What'd I do?"

"NOW!" Marie growled. Black Star rolled his eyes and drug himself to the door, still able to keep his head held high despite his obvious wrongdoing.

"GOODBYE MY FAITHFUL MINIONS! THE STAR WILL BE BACK SHORTLY!"

"BLACK STAR _NOW BEFORE I MAKE YOU_!" Marie screeched. Maka cast her a wary look. Black Star just about ran out of the door at the dangerous tone of her voice. Marie cleared her throat, regaining her cheery smile. At least half the class rolled their eyes at their teachers ability to snap back as if nothing happened. "Well, I guess it's just you and me now, huh?"

"I-I guess."

"We only have to do this once, if you want, I do have to make some rounds to check if everyone is doing okay." Marie smiled, and passed her the blindfold. "Since you caught me, it's only fair that I catch you." Maka swallowed, taking the blindfold from her hand. "Go ahead – put it on! Tell me when you're ready."

"O-okay..." Maka hesitantly placed it over her eyes and slowly turned away from where she knew Marie stood. She took a quick breath to calm her churning stomach. "I'm ready."

"Good! Okay, I'm right behind you, Maka. On the count of three, I'll catch you!" Marie's gentle voice assured. Maka was not consoled, and the churning in her gut became more unbearable with every passing second. "One, two—three!"

Maka leaned back but at the last moment shook her head and stepped forward instead.

"Maka—?"

"I can't do this." Maka admitted, ripping the blindfold off her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ms. Marie, but I-I _really_ can't do this. Can I just pass today?"

"But..." Marie mumbled, reluctant. "Are you sure you don't want to give it another try? It's not always easy the first time!"

"N-no..." Maka weakly shook her head. "I'd feel much more comfortable if I just didn't...do it at all. Please, Ms. Marie?" Maka hopefully asked, when she saw the skepticism in her eyes. "I-I can write up a report on something – on anything, just don't make me do this!"

Her pleading seemed to touch Marie, for the woman sighed and nodded her head with a kind smile. "Okay, Maka, I'll go get some extra work for you to do – you're excused. I'll tell Stein this counts as today's work, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am!" Maka gratefully said, and Marie brightened. Maka watched as the Deathscythe flipped through a few pages in the textbook before stopping on one that caught her interest. She only read a few lines before she walked back to Maka.

"Here – read the chapter and give me a summary of all the main points. If you finish it early," Marie said, knowing that Maka was quick at these things from what Stein had told her, "you can continue onto pages 114 through 178 – yes, those are well-in what you need to know for the semester!"

"Okay!" Maka quickly took the book and headed up to her desk with a relieved smile. She sat in her chair and dug in her bag for paper, feeling better now that she was back in her element, when she felt someone familiar near her.

"What're you doing? Weren't you supposed to do that stupid trust fall thing with Marie?" Soul asked in his usual lazy drawl, watching his meister tense while she slipped out a few sheets of paper.

"Uh, I finished so she said I could do some extra work." Maka cleared her throat, avoiding his skeptical gaze uneasily. "What...about you? Are you slacking off again?" Maka sharply added, and he only snorted.

"No! I did it...sorta'."

"Sorta'?"

"Jackie couldn't do it." Soul shrugged. "I don't care so I didn't do it. She left to try it again with Kim." Maka glanced around and found them, Jackie falling right into Kim's arms with a laughing smile. "And, by the way, you suck at lying – you should at least try to look at me when you're doing it."

Maka sighed and reluctantly met his amused gaze. "Okay, so I didn't do it either! Ms. Marie said I could do book work to make up for it..."

"That sounds boring...hey, let's try it." Soul suddenly said. Maka froze. "We never did it! Let's do it right now!"

"No! Ms. Marie said we couldn't switch partners—!"

"Who gives a crap what she says? Everyone's going back to their original partners, anyway." Soul pointed out, and Maka quietly agreed when she saw Ox and Harvar and even Kid and his gun weapons back together. "C'mon, let's see how much you trust me." He smirked, but Maka remained immobile.

"No thanks. I'm not going to disobey her, Soul."

"Didn't you do it anyway?" Soul rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of her seat in one yank. "Don't be a wuss, just once!"

"I said _no_, Soul!"

"_Once_!"

"NO!"

"One and a half!"

"No—how can you even do it halfway?"

"_C'mon!_" Soul urged, and gestured for her to turn around eagerly. "Just once, alright? And then the book work can count as extra credit or something..."

"But..." Maka bit her lip and said hastily: "You go first!"

Soul arched a brow but shrugged. "Alright, I'll go first then." He turned around and Maka unsurely watched him for a moment. He sometimes handled things _too_ coolly, Maka sagely agreed with herself.

"You ready?" Soul asked, his eyes closed.

"Yeah..."

"Cool then...one... two..." Maka saw Soul fall a few seconds later and she quickly caught him, noticing how tense his muscles were. She heard him sigh in apparent relief, muttering something she didn't catch under his breath, and Maka felt her stomach plummet when she realized just how much trust he had in her yet how little she had in _him._ "So, I did it, now it's _your_ turn!"

"You said only once..." Maka mumbled.

Soul frowned. "Maka."

"I... okay." Maka caved, more out of her guilt that he held so much trust in her than her own willingness. She pivoted around on her heel and took a deep breath. Her stomach was knotting up again.

"Ready?"

"Y...yeah." Maka swallowed, and squeezed her eyes closed. All she had to do was fall back. It sounded easier said than done but if Soul had done it, then so could she!

"On the count of three." Soul's calm voice came from close behind her. Maka was relieved to find him close to her, not as far as she had been when she caught him. "One...two...three...!"

Maka tried but stilled at the last moment, body tense and unwilling. She was sure her face had paled several shades, and the churn in her stomach had reached that unbearable threshold of pain again.

She couldn't do it.

She _couldn't_ trust him, Maka realized, appalled. What made him trust her so much – the fact that he always fell into her hand when he transformed, reminiscent of this activity, or the fact that he truly trusted her? Even if it were the former, _she _used _him _for protection during battles – surely she should be able to fall back into his arms like nothing...? She had to have some sort of trust in him, right?

"Maka, fall back." Soul said, softly. "I promise I won't let you fall."

People had promised her a lot of things but they never went through with them, what made his promise better than any of the other ones? There was no reassurance that he wouldn't let her fall in another time, another place.

"I _promise_."

Maka breathed shallowly.

"I'll never let you fall, Maka."

She shut her eyes and, for the first time in a very long time, trusted a man's word.

She fell back, a rush of wind in her ears, a loss of balance beneath her feet, and for one heart-stopping moment she thought he had actually let her fall, before she felt Soul's arms catch her firmly. The relief and satisfaction that flooded her was immediate, as she stood up straight and turned to face him.

"Wow, you're really pale." Soul observed, laughing when she glared at his blatant statement. He grinned, hands back in the pockets of his jeans. "See? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I'm _never _doing that again!" Maka fervently said, and slumped down in her chair. "How is this supposed to help our Soul Resonance rate, anyway? It's pointless!"

"No, it's not." Soul yawned, taking seat beside her. "If we trust that we won't let each other fall, then our wavelengths will grow stronger through that bond we have, so we'll be able to resonate with each other easier." He explained, dropping his head in his arms. "That was the whole _point_ of this trust fall thing, Maka."

Maka dropped her eyes back to her paper, knowing full-well he was right and she was simply being stubborn. She tapped the back of her pencil on her paper and, after a moment of deliberation, wrote _his _name on the top, right hand, corner and began her book work.

* * *

_Note: Requested by **StandingOnTheRooftops.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you allow her to see a side of you no one has ever seen before._

* * *

Wes Evans rapped his knuckles against the glossy back of his violin. He stood under a halo of moonlight, gazing at the illuminated hardwood floor of the music room thoughtfully. Deciding he would not be playing at the moment, he put the violin at rest and silently recounted the past few days.

His little brother, despite being practically run out of their manor, had come to visit during winter break under the excuse that his meister, whom he insisted he was _fully_ obligated to obey, had forced him to accept the invitation to the Evans Manor in Colorado to celebrate Christmas Eve and New Years.

Although their mother and father were indifferent about their youngest son, Wes never faltered in inviting him to family gatherings. Where his parents failed to give their youngest acknowledgment, Wes had strove to do. He was not as cold and indifferent as his mother and father, and he had always held a dear soft spot for his little brother, whom, he still remembered clearly, used to grin at him whenever they roughhoused in the courtyard.

He didn't grin at him anymore. In fact, Soul "Eater" Evans hardly displayed any sort of expression around him; he was blank. When he had arrived, his meister in tow, the most he had gotten was a disgruntled nod and a tight "_Wes_" before he stormed inside and ignored the hissing warnings of his meister.

She, on the other hand, was a different story. The stark differences in their personalities startled Wes at first: the girl had been pleasing, with a cheerful smile and sparkling emerald eyes. She had shook his hand rather timidly before hastening to catch up to her weapon, who barked for her to follow him or be left behind.

Maka Albarn was a pleasant and intelligent character. Wes was relieved his little brother had someone like her by his side although he worried Soul was shutting her out. He was vague on the dynamics of Meister-Weapon relationships but his brother had never shown anything other than apathy or a slight grin or snort to his meister.

In fact, they bickered an awful lot...

Wes lifted his violin to his chin and rose his bow. He rested it lightly upon the strings before closing his eyes and letting the bow caress the strings to a song.

He played for a good while, song after song, until his neck ached and his arm began to stiffen up. When he withdrew the violin from his chin, rotating his sore shoulder, he heard soft clapping come from the doorway of the music room.

"Maka!" Wes said, surprised. "What are you doing out of bed this late at night?"

"That was wonderful, Wes!" Maka politely complimented, taking a cautious step into the room. "Sorry if I'm intruding... I was looking for the bathroom when I heard music and, well..."

Wes smiled. "It's alright. I don't mind having an audience." He stored the violin back into its case along with its bow, zipping it up. He placed the case atop a piano bench and he noticed Maka's nostalgic stare at the grand piano that stretched majestically behind him.

"Do you play?"

Maka shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no! Not me! I-I don't play an instrument, actually..." She trailed off with an embarrassed mumbled.

"Surely you have! Don't all students at least touch an instrument once?" Wes humored.

"Well, I wasn't necessarily raised like a normal student." Maka uneasily started. "I attended school with everyone else til middle school. Then I was shipped off to Shibusen to continue my education as a meister."

"So you haven't touched a single instrument?" Wes questioned, skeptically. "Not even _once?_"

"Um, well..." Maka cleared her throat, timidly. "I-I _tried _to play the trumpet once because it was a required course when I was eleven, _but_..."

"Let me guess – you couldn't buzz right?"

Maka laughed nervously. "More like I couldn't even get a decent note out of it! By the time the course ended, I barely managed to hit the stupid _G_ note!"

Wes laughed openly. "Yes, well, the trumpet is the hardest instrument to start, but it grows easier as time goes by. You should have pursued it; you seem to have the right type of perseverance to excel at anything you set your mind to!"

Maka faintly blushed but dropped her eyes to the floor solemnly. She had sleepily stuck her feet into her boots when she awoke, dragging herself to the bathroom to relieve herself. But the soft coo of a lullaby played on strings had deterred her from returning to her room, the gentle sounds surprisingly coming from Soul's older brother.

"Soul doesn't talk about you a lot." Maka broke the silence that had descended upon them. "But he did tell me that you were really good at playing the violin. I can see why now, but..." She sighed, weary. "...but you _both_ sound incredible when you play an instrument! Yet Soul says his playing is..." She hesitated, and Wes rose a hand as a silent gesture for her to pause her thoughts.

"Soul has a right to think his playing is horrendous." Wes explained. "Mother and father are difficult to please, you see. Soul always tried very hard to gain their acceptance – he played remarkably well for someone his age, I would admit. But it was never enough. I told him more than once to not give up on the piano. I knew eventually he would master it – it was all just a matter of time."

Maka listened with an air of quiet curiosity.

"He continued to practice and he never missed a single piano lesson although he refused to complete the worksheets his instructor left him." He chuckled, and Maka smiled. "I'll admit it – I was a little mean to him when we were younger." He rubbed his neck sheepishly, in such a Soul-like way that Maka was taken aback for a second. "I called him Butterfingers and liked to tease him about his screw ups. Regardless of my taunts, he practiced so much sometimes I had to _force_ him to bed, or he'd never sleep!" His glass black eyes hardened. "But his skills as a pianist always fell below expectation. And because of his intense practice sessions, he secluded himself enough to become estranged from us. It's not really a surprise he had been spurned from the family with the excuse of being a Weapon like our great-great-grandfather..."

There seemed to be nothing else to say.

Wes glanced at Maka, whose face was veiled with the nightly shadows that hung from the room like curtains.

"... I see." She finally said, balling her hands into fists. "I don't know on what standards your family grades, but I've always thought Soul played amazingly well. He's only played for me twice but both of those times were enough to leave me completely stunned...this going to sound creepy, but it's—it's a little addicting to listen to." Maka admitted, with a dark flush of her cheeks. It felt so easy to confess such a well-kept secret to Wes. Perhaps it was his unnerving resemblance to her partner, which gave her the illusion that she was getting it off her chest, or the veil of darkness that offered her some form of anonymity, but the words spilled from her mouth uncontrollably. "And it's only _his_ music that gets me like that. Sorry to say, Wes, but even your violin sounds a little dull compared to his piano."

Wes merely laughed, revealing normal white teeth. "That's wonderful!" He smiled, far more inviting than Soul. But Maka was no more affected by his charming smile than Ox Ford's grin. "You feel a connection to his compositions! That's great!"

"But I don't _get it!_" Maka groaned, frustratedly. "I've tried really hard to understand but it's—_hard!_ I've read at least a dozen books on it! I even interviewed someone once!" Maka slumped, defeated. "I just _can't_ understand it, no matter how much I try! It's annoying..."

Wes smiled, patiently. "Stop thinking."

Maka stared, bewildered. "Wh-what?"

"You can't understand music through solely logical means. You've understood music all this time, Maka, you've just been trying to phrase your understanding into words, and that's simply impossible. Just listen. Listen, and don't think." Wes chuckled at Maka's lost look. "It might be harder for you, considering how grounded you are. But to understand the raw significance of music, you need not look in a book, just listen to what your soul says."

"Soul... _told_ me something like that once." Maka admitted, grudgingly.

Wes snorted. "Soul doesn't have the patience to explain this to you – he didn't even have the patience to listen to his piano instructor half the time!"

Maka grinned. That sounded like her partner, alright.

"Well, it's late, how about we head off to bed?" Wes suggested, stepping out of the beam of moonlight to usher her out. "Mother and father do not tolerate tardiness, I'd suggest not leaving a bad impression on them!"

"I think I already _did_..." Maka gloomily said, standing in the hall as she waited for Wes to shut the door to the music room. "They don't seem to like me very much."

"Oh, trust me, it's not you, it's just the fact that their youngest decided to show his face again. Soul isn't very popular around here. But _I_ enjoy his company, however dry it is at times." Wes winked, and Maka smiled cheerfully.

Honestly, Maka didn't understand what there wasn't to like about Wes. Soul made him out to be some haughty bastard! Maybe it was just a bad case of sibling rivalry, Maka decided.

"Goodnight, Wes! Thanks for taking your time to explain music to me!" Maka bade goodbye, heading down the other way.

"Likewise!"

Wes took four steps before he realized Maka had gone in the wrong direction. He quickly backtracked, hurrying down the halls to guide the girl back to her bedroom, when he heard something quite peculiar.

He heard hushed whispers, the thump of someone being pushed against a wall, followed by a squeak of his brothers name. Wes slowed, stealthily peering over the corner of the hall. The mullioned windows that lined the corridor, thick curtains partially drawn, filtered dim moonlight through the dusty grime. A few feet away, he saw his brother and Maka in quite the compromising position.

Wes quickly checked to his right, seeing no one, before their voices drew his attention back.

"_Addicting_, huh?" Soul purred.

"Y-you heard that?" Maka squeaked, appalled. "What were you doing awake? It's _two _in the morning! And _what_ have I told you about _eavesdropping_ on things that aren't your business!"

"But that _was_ my business," Soul drawled. "Anything that has to do with you is my business, Maka, I thought we established that a long time ago..."

"What were you doing awake?" She persisted.

"Stop changing the subject." Soul smirked, and Wes saw an uncharacteristic affection soften his eyes. His knuckles brushed the soft skin of her cheek in a caress, and Wes was witness to the gentle words of: "if you wanted to hear me play that badly, you should've just asked, idiot."

"It wouldn't have made a difference." Maka bitterly contradicted, casting her eyes down. "I've asked you before, and you just ignore me!"

"But now I know _why_ you want to hear me play," he murmured, his fingers running through her loose hair tenderly. Maka shivered at his touch, ducking to hide her reddened cheeks.

Soul had said more words tonight than the entire week combined, Wes realized. He leaned against the edge of the hallway, listening to his little brother and his meister exchange a few words with a slight smile. Perhaps Soul _wasn't_ shutting her out after all; he was certainly more expressive than usual!

It was a side Wes had never seen and was pleased to have seen before they left for Death City again.

"...you stupid woman." Wes froze, his little brothers tone having taken on a heated note. That _can't _be good. "I could care less if you couldn't blow a freakin' _whistle! _Geez, how do you get these things crammed into that huge brain of yours?"

Wes frowned when Maka didn't reply. He had an idea of why and frankly he didn't want to watch. He debated heading back the way he came from before curiosity won over and he dared to peek around the corner. Wes smirked when he saw their heated lip lock.

So that was it: they didn't just have a meister-weapon relationship, did they? Wes could play with this new piece of information...

_Not in my house, you don't, butterfingers! _Wes thought with a wicked grin, when his brother growled something he didn't catch but hoisted her up against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist before catching her lips again. Wes turned away, backtracking a few steps, and called out in a loud whisper: "_Maka!_ _Are you there?_"

He stifled laughter when he heard her panicked squeal, the loud thumps and aggressive whispers as they composed themselves. By the time he rounded the corner, they were two feet apart and Maka was nervously playing with the hem of her shirt while his brother scowled viciously.

"Oh, there you are!" Wes said, feigning innocence. "I came to get you since you went the wrong way... Soul? What are _you _doing here?" Adding slyly: "Did you two plan to meet here after hours...? Mother and father would disapprove."

"Mother and father can go—!" Soul began nastily before Maka interrupted him.

"NO WE DIDN'T!" Maka shouted, panicked. Wes bit back a snicker at his brothers withering glare. "I-I was lost, and Soul came to get me when he caught my distressed wavelength!"

Wes stared. "Wavelength...?"

"It's something people like _you _wouldn't understand." Soul snidely said.

"People like me?" Wes arched an amused brow.

"Yeah. Uncool, stiff, motherfuc - OHSHIT - !"

"Don't listen to him." Maka deadpanned, after stomping on his foot. Wes pretended he didn't notice his brother hopping up and down in pain, holding back curses. "You see, weapons and meister's can sense each others soul wavelength. If their bond is close enough, they may also feel each others emotions through the link we both share." Maka explained, more in her element and feeling less panicked. "I woke Soul up by accident when I realized I was lost."

"Oh, handy trick, huh?" Wes commented offhandedly, and gestured them down the hall. "Well, it's very late and breakfast is at eight am sharp. We'd best get going!"

"Right!" Maka mumbled while Soul grouchily followed with a muttered, "_whatever_..."

Wes hummed cheerfully, knowing full-well his little brother was boring holes into the back of his skull. How he had missed teasing him! It was even _more_ fun when Soul had someone he liked within the house – he couldn't wait to exercise his 'Annoy-Soul-Until-He-Blows' skills in the afternoon!

"We can walk the rest of the way, thanks!" Soul snapped, when they reached their designated hall.

"Soul!" Maka scolded.

"It's alright, I know when I'm not wanted." Wes smiled smugly at Soul, who narrowed his eyes at his brothers unusually blithe behavior. "Night! Don't stay up _too_ late!" The additional comment made Maka swallow compulsively. Wes pivoted on his heel and made his way back to his own room.

Wes pretended he didn't notice that only _one _door (Maka's door) opened and shut as he disappeared down another hall.

Before he went to bed, Wes scribbled a note to the maid that said she was to wake Maka up at six am sharp with breakfast in bed...

* * *

**A/N: **The next few chapters will be crappy. I didn't like any one of them! I swear, I read through them all twice and neither of them impressed me. But I have a pattern to keep up in my updating so I decided on this one, just because Soul nearly gets laid but his brother cock-blocks XD It's just a very amusing situation for me...

_Scarlett._


	17. Chapter 17

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when he doesn't understand you at all sometimes but you still forgive him for it._

* * *

The sky is a canvas of blues and violets; sparkling with crushed diamonds as she hovers above the misty clouds.

It's freezing up here; her legs feel as if they have been bathed in ice and she can feel the tip of her nose frost over the longer she glides on her Deathscythe. But the sky is the most beautiful above the clouds, away from the lights of the city. She relishes the freedom of being the only one here – the only one for thousand of miles – and the cold is tolerable with this thought in mind.

She slows down, looking at the laughing sickle moon that deliriously hangs from the topmost part of the sky like a dangling toy in a children's playpen.

"Aren't you cold?" Soul asks.

"A little." She replies, honestly. She's the most honest away from all the noise, all of the distractions and the madness, he's noticed. "But it's not as cold as you think it is. Don't worry about it."

She can't see it but he frowns, not liking the idea of his meister lurking above the clouds gloomily for too long. Not only because it _couldn't_ be healthy to drown in your own misery but because the chill could cause her to catch a cold or worse.

"You have ten minutes." Soul says, with a tone of finality. "I wanna' watch this movie that'll be on at eight."

"Alright." Maka concedes, continuing her absent musing. She doesn't think about bad things when she's up this high, where the air is so thin and cold it hurts to breathe, rather she thinks about what has happened over the past few weeks. She reminisces about old times, about her accomplishments and ideals and goals, about Soul...

_Soul..._

He's so popular now; some of his popularity is leaking onto her. She finds she doesn't like the attention: she'd rather be ignored than always be stared at. Liz tells her it's a good thing; that she could get a boyfriend now and finally have a life other than the one inside of her novels – but Maka doesn't need a boyfriend, nor does she want to abandon the fictitious worlds within her novels.

There's a red strip on the horizon that burns like coal; a dark, bloody, rim that reminds her of the crimson eyes of her partner. They're deep, dark, and empty; a whirlpool of contained, collected, sentiments and cold, calculative reasoning.

Sometimes, she thinks they lighten, become bright and intense, when she says something particularly endearing, but that doesn't happen much unless their alone.

He's a very reserved person in public, despite his extroverted attitude around their friends.

He's only showing them a fraction of who he truly is.

Sometimes, she hates it; how he can take everything in stride and not flinch. Girls confess to him (she isn't dumb, she sees it all the time) but he's stopped being so awkward with it. He just stands there, sizing them up, and watches as they spill their heart and guts into those three words...only to watch as he stares at them, like their fools for ever thinking he would _like them_, and rejects them with a weary shift of his eyes; shrug of his shoulders; a shake of his head.

She doesn't know why, either.

Why reject those girls?

Their partnership, she reluctantly admits, doesn't mean that he's bound to her and _only_ her. He _is _technically connected to her soul, as she is to his, and they _do_ occasionally say things that may or may not qualify as confessions or may be picked apart to unearth deeper feelings, but they've remained strong friends, best friends, this long, and not once have either of them suggested they take their partnership to a new level.

Soul has no romantic obligation to her so she can't understand _why _he doesn't just date a busty, gorgeous, curvacious, girl to finish his cool complex.

"Hey, Soul?" Maka starts, not removing her eyes from the black sky; the fractures of glass that spread across it like debris in a battlefield. "That girl who confessed to you today after school... did you say yes?"

"Who, Emily?"

"Yeah." Maka nods. So that was her name. She has a pretty name – it has more character than her own drab name.

"No."

"How come?"

"Is that really your business?"

"I was just asking." She mutters, miffed. "No need to get all defensive about it..."

It goes silent again, and Maka thinks this is the end of it and resigns herself to gazing at the blazing stars millions of light-years away, when he replies:

"I'm not interested in dating right now."

Her brows raise at that. "You sure don't _sound _like it." She sounds baleful, perhaps even bitter, but Soul doesn't comment on it.

"You promised me you'd make me into a Deathscythe," he explains, "and you did. And I promised you I'd protect you and become stronger."

"And you have." Maka agrees, remembering when he used his own body as a shield to protect her. The scar isn't as stark against his skin any more but if the light hits it the right way, if he angles himself just right, it's as real and vivid as it had been a few days after his surgery.

"No. I haven't gotten stronger."

"Yes, you have. You're the strongest weapon in DWMA right now – the strongest _student_ weapon, anyway." Maka amends, remembering her father was, she grudgingly admits, quite strong, and Miss Marie was also strong herself.

"No, I'm not!" Soul insists. "Until I can function without a meister, I'm not strong. So I don't have time to mess around with some girl when I have something _this_ important to do!"

The words wrench her heart. _"...function without a meister..." _So he wants to get rid of her, does he? Her eyes darken and she carefully avoids looking down at his blade, where she knows he can catch glimpses of her through the moonlight.

"That's good." Maka hollowly replies. "You're finally taking this seriously."

"I've _always_ taken it seriously."

"Have not." She says, without humor. "You were always getting in trouble with Black Star, or getting suspended or detained after school for unauthorized fights and vandalizing school property."

"Alright, for the last time: _Black Star v_andalized the walls! I was just _standing _there and I got in trouble with that idiot even though I didn't _do_ anything!"

"The fact that you were there means you were guilty by association."

"Yeah, Stein said something like that, too..." He grudgingly admits, and a smile ghosts her lips.

"Well, don't worry about it too much." She finally looks down, closing her eyes as a gust of wind strikes up from the nauseating drop below. The cold air stings her eyes. "You'll be the strongest, coolest, Deathscythe DWMA has ever seen. You won't need me anymore when I'm finished with you." A rather cold smile crosses her face. "I'll make sure of it."

Soul drops his eyes from her, past the haze of clouds, to the specks of lights that dabble the ground. They're smudges in his vision; they must be so far up if he could barely see the city. He cannot feel the cold because he's a weapon and weather doesn't affect him in this form but just by looking at her skin, so pale and corpse-like, her lips nearly blue from the freezing temperatures, he knows they've overspent their welcome in the haven of the sky.

"Hey, we should go back now." Soul suggests. "Before you freeze to death."

"Yeah, okay." Maka quietly says, opening her eyes. She slides her foot forward until it bumps with the curve of his blade, and she sinks her body back against the metal. Her eyes narrow, her soul roaring as she injects a blast through their link that releases in a shock of crystalline shards of feathers through the end of her scythe blade. The air is colder as they head down to Death City, blow after blow of ice, but she doesn't mind the cold, nor the way it seems to burn through her skin, as they reach the bottom, where it warms relatively fast. She lands a block away from their apartment.

"Being a weapon makes my back hurt." Soul complains, cracking his back after he transforms.

"Like I said, eventually you won't need me, so you'll be able to do whatever you want without a meister to help you out." Maka flatly states, starting to walk down the cobblestone road.

"Hey, wait up!" Soul calls, falling into step with her. Despite himself, he touches her hand and is shocked to realize just how freezing it is. "Holy crap – you seriously don't feel that? You're freezing! You idiot! Why didn't you bring your gloves with you?" He takes her hand in his, frowning for a second, and lets it go and takes off his jacket.

He shoves her arms through the sleeves without missing a beat, ignoring her sputtering. He doesn't let her take it off when she tries to, either.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" Maka tries to wiggle out of the jacket. "You need this more than I do—!"

"It's the most I can do right now." Soul mutters, almost angerly. "When we get home, you're taking a hot shower, and then I'll make you some tea or hot chocolate to keep you warm."

She watches him as he continues to mutter the plans for the night, forgetting all about that movie he was supposed to watch. She asks, almost impulsively: "What did you mean by being able to function without a meister?"

He raises his eyes to her, almost in surprise. "I mean, I don't want another meister." He answers, as if the answer should have been obvious from the start. "I want to be able to fight my own battles without the need for one once you begin your own missions."

Maka stops. "Wait, my own missions? What are you talking about?"

"That you're going to create another Deathscythe using another weapon." Soul replies, crisply. He's obviously given this a lot of thought and Maka thinks back to Stein, how he had briefly mentioned that prodigious meister's (he had glanced at her when he said this) usually continued their quest to create Deathscythes. "That is...what you're going to do, right? After you train me to my full potential? Start over? I mean, that's usually what meister's do after they've trained their first Deathscythe..."

Maka stares, in disbelief. Was _that_ why he wanted to learn to be self-sufficient? It wasn't because he wanted to get rid of her, it was because he thought _she _would get rid of _him_? "No!" Maka shouts, incredulously. She shakes her head vigorously: "No! Soul, what are you talking about? I'm not creating another Deathscythe! That's only if I want to and I'm not getting another weapon, you idiot! If you decide to go on your own, that's fine with me, but I'll probably quit being a full-time meister and become a teacher at DWMA or something..." Maka shrugs at his open-mouthed response. "I don't plan on continuing my career as a Scythe Meister if you're not my weapon – not unless there's a national emergency and they need me."

"You're not... getting another weapon after me then?"

"You're the first, and last, weapon I'll ever use, Soul." The words sound raw but they're honest, and honesty is something she values; even if she lies sometimes to hide her feelings. But tonight, she doesn't hide them, because she doesn't want him to leave her. It scares her that he'll leave her.

He stares at her, then snorts and laughs, pulling her along the sidewalk again. "Huh. I guess you're gonna' be stuck with me for a long time, Maka." Soul says, casually. The statement makes her gloom clear and her smile widen. "Like hell am I gonna' let you apply as a _teacher _at DWMA! You'll bore the students to death!"

"I would not! I would actually be _teaching_ them something!"

Soul cringes. "That's even worse! You'd abuse the students with your stupid books when they're not paying attention—!"

"MAKA CHOP!"

"OW—SEE? You can't be a teacher if you have a history of abuse!"

"I'd hardly call that abuse!"

"It would be if I file a complaint!"

"Just _try!_"

Soul glares, and she grins triumphantly.

"I want hot chocolate!" Maka demands, her hands stuffed into his jackets pockets. "With those tiny marshmallows on top!"

"We don't have any of those." Soul deadpans. "We only have the big ones."

"Oh! Great! Put three in it then!"

"No way – you'll rot your teeth with so much sugar!"

"Since when do _you _care about me teeth, cool guy?" Maka retorts, laughing when he sends her a withering look. "Fine, then, put two! It doesn't really matter, it'll still taste good." She smiles brightly at him. "You make the best hot chocolate!"

He looks away, blaming the faint color on his face on the cold air. "Of course it's good – I make it the cool way."

That night, when she comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped in her hair to keep it from dripping down her back, a mug of hot chocolate sits on the coffee table.

He put three marshmallows in it.


	18. Chapter 18

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

_

* * *

_

_... when you don't leave her behind no matter what._

_

* * *

_

Blood – on her clothes, on her gloves, on the cement. The sharp pain that came from being impaled crashed into her seconds late; an acidic, hot, searing sensation that spread through her side like thick honey. The strength in her legs seemed to give just as her determination to triumph fell apart.

She lost.

Everything seemed to jerkily begin to close within itself: from the high hanging sky, a bruising purple and blue, the bright face of the moon misted by fog, to the towering buildings that surrounded her from all around; as if encasing her in their cold corporate hands. Even her own choked cries were fading, the fire that licked the wound in her stomach dissolving along with her other perceptions.

"Shit—_Maka!_" His voice managed to penetrate the gloom that was settling around her like thick wool.

"Soul – !" He grabbed her, his foot slamming hard on the ledge. She saw him topple over with her and as wind rushed in her ears, creating an impenetrable static of sound, she felt him shove her on top of his chest just as the ground came up to meet them, throwing her off him upon impact and sending her rolling across the glass scattered, dirt riddled, floor of the alley.

"Soul!" Maka gasped, spitting blood when she came to a stop. "Soul! Are you—okay?"

"I'll live..." He groaned, clutching his head. He was sure he broke something but everything appeared to be functioning well enough. "Damn it—Maka!" He remembered, scrambling toward her.

Maka couldn't move well anymore. The injury in her stomach was becoming unbearable and she kept coughing out splats of blood. She noticed bemusedly it was red, not black. The three story fall had only made things worse. She knew, knew since that derailed meister had shot that arrow through her gut, that she was in for the count. She was not a long-distance fighter; he had the advantage with his demon bow and she had miscalculated his strength and cleverness.

She lost.

She supposed it had to happen _sometime_.

"Where is he?" Maka gasped, breathing in shallow breaths.

"Don't worry about him right now – he saw us fall. He probably thinks we didn't make it." Soul whispered, frantic. She felt his hand press against her wound and she cried out, digging her fingers into the sleeves of his shirt.

"No—don't!" Maka cried. She shut her eyes; she could feel that meister's soul wavelength nearing. He knew the fall hadn't finished them off and a trickling, slow, panic began to well in place of her fear and pain. "He's coming! Soul – run!"

"What? No! Are you crazy? He'll kill you if I leave you behind!"

"Soul – when the meister can't go on," she steadily said, drawing in a quick breath, "the weapon is obligated to obey their meister's last wishes. I need you to run. Don't let him catch you – if you go right now, you'll be able to make it without him knowing where you went – !"

"NO!" Soul shouted furiously, kneeling before her. "I'm not leaving you behind, Maka!"

"This isn't about what YOU want!" Maka shouted right back, her voice falling a few octaves below his own because of the pain. "This is serious – he got me right in the stomach! I can't fight anymore and you need a meister to use you. I can barely keep my eyes open, Soul, please, just GO!" Maka pleaded, hands balled and keeping her propped up. "One of us has to make it..."

Soul stared. She read the disbelief and actual fear in his crimson eyes; as if he were losing something valuable, as if he just realized she was not kidding and the situation was grave. She wondered if it had ever crossed his mind that, during one of their missions, she might not make it to see another day. It has crossed her own mind frequently, since the incident with Crona, that he may not make it back one day...that _she _may not make it back.

"W-wait, what are you doing—?" Maka choked, when Soul scooped her into his arms.

"We're _both_ making it out alive. I refuse to leave you here to die at his hands – if-if you're going to _die_ then at least do it coolly! This _isn't_ cool!" Soul snapped, and began to run down the narrow path just as an agile figure leaped down silently at the end of the alley.

Soul skid to a stop and wasted no time turning the other way. Maka sensed the rogue meister's amusement, the nearer he drew, and she had the stomach-plunging feeling that they were not going to make it – Soul would never become a Deathscythe – she would be buried in Hook Cemetery with the rest of the meister's whom have lost their lives to their duty – she would never be able to see the age of _fifteen _– she had let Soul down –

Suddenly, a hooting laugh came from above.

"Black Star!" Soul screamed, and she saw a relieved grin light his strained face. She focused her sight enough to catch the assassin's bright blue hair, Tsubaki's own long hair before a flash of light blinded her and the shadow weapon transformed into a sickle chain scythe. "For once, I'm glad to see you!"

"What would you guys do without me? HYAHAHA!" Black Star boomed, landing directly behind of Soul and preparing for honorable battle. "Get're outta' here, Soul! This is a job for the almighty Black Star!"

"Thanks, man, we owe you one!" Soul panted, sneakers crunching against gravel as he sprinted to safety.

"Heh, don't mention it! You're the small fry, I'm the big star, remember?" Black Star laughed a tacky laugh before it abruptly quieted. His grin disappeared once Soul ran around a bend, eyes sharply fixing on the meister who had slowed his pursuit to a nimble walk upon his unexpected arrival.

"How surprising." The rogue meister commented. "And who might you be? Another one of Death's advocates?" His eyes raked down his frame, lingered on his weapon for a second longer. "This is all Death has at his disposal? Another child? Pitiful."

A vein popped on Black Star's temple, his teeth grinding as his resisted the homicidal urge to plunge Tsubaki into that mans chest. "_P-pitiful_ –? Are you callin' me _small_, shithead? 'Cause you're not so big. Not compared to _me!_ Someone as _small _as you should be trembling in fear right now!"

"Don't make me laugh!" He sneered.

"I ain't making _anyone _laugh! The great Black Star doesn't have time to spare amusing simpletons." His grin widened; hungry anticipation in his star-shaped eyes. Tsubaki nervously glanced at him from the glaring shine of the sickle blade. "You're going to pay for hurting Maka..." Black Star stated coldly. His grip on his chain scythe was brutal. "...in the most painful way possible. Prepare yourself."

The rogue meister smirked, lifting his demon bow in challenge. "We'll see, _kid_. You don't look so tough to me. I've fought worse and come out alive – you're no different than any of the others I've fought."

"You'll regret that." Black Star grinned before he disappeared from sight, and all the rogue meister knew for the next half hour was pain and a high, cruel, laugh.

* * *

**A/N: **I wanted this one to focus more around Black Star 'cause, even though he's an arrogant git sometimes, he's a loyal friend and he's always looking out for his buddies :D

_Scarlett._


	19. Chapter 19

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you can pick her out amongst a crowd of strangers._

* * *

This was not his scene.

He loathed extravagant galas such as these with a fiery passion. The stiffness in each person's posture and falsely kind voice always dampened his already melancholic mood. The lights were far too bright; the food more for display than for eating. The droning chatter got on his nerves, not to mention the dreadful black suit he had to wear was completely _lame._

He tugged on his tie, wishing he could undo it and toss it out the balcony. Instead, he adjusted it on his neck primly and slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks; as if he _wasn't_ bothered by the rigidness of his suit or the _painful_, hard, soles of his dress shoes.

The only thing that made this gala interesting was the fact that it offered anonymity. Everyone wore a mask of different kind; some showy in their decorations and others simple and for the sole purpose of masking their identity. And this was exactly what he needed if he were to do this _right_...

He took a calming breath.

Everything would work out tonight; he needed to stay cool. He could do it. He had planned this for days.

"Hey, Soul, lookin' good!" Kilik laughed.

"We're not supposed to know each others identity, dumbass!" He hissed.

"Too late!"

Soul flipped him off, rolling his eyes when Kilik snickered and continued his confident swagger toward a pretty brunette standing rather lonesome near the wall, clutching a glass of soda in her hand. Naturally, Soul would never be able to fully disguise himself: his stark white hair stuck out sharply amongst black and blondes. He would have to dye his hair a more natural color in order to melt with the rest, and that wasn't cool at all.

"Kim?" Ox asked, placing a hand on a random girls shoulder. "No – sorry! Kim?" He tried another girl, earning a nasty look that he would never see because of the mask. "No – my bad! Ki—wait up, Kim is that you? _Kim!_"

Soul stared at Ox's ability to be simultaneously ingenious and idiotic. Kim, like him, had _weird looking hair! _Her own would stick out _horribly_ – for gods sake, it was _pink! _Pink! Yet Soul watched as Ox feebly tried to find Kim. His red eyes shifted over a few meters to where the girl _really_ stood, beside her weapon Jackie; her hair a blinding _pink_.

_This isn't even a masquerade party. _Soul irately thought. _Not if I know who the hell everyone is! _He rolled his eyes when Ox found Harvar but subsequently grieved not being able to locate Kim. Harvar, predictably, aided his meister in his quest and (unsurprisingly) found her.

Out of all of their friends, Soul was convinced Harvar was the most normal – along with Jackie. They were normal _together_, he decided, when Harvar took her hand and Ox gushed about Kim's utter cuteness at the top of his lungs.

Kim looked just about ready to crack his ribs in.

"Idiot." Soul muttered under his breath.

"Good evening fellow Shibusen students!" A neutral, but rather amused, drawl rang from the stage. Soul looked to see Stein at the microphone, looking no more excited than he did when he taught their class. "As you are all aware, today marks the one hundred and eightieth anniversary of Shibusen Academy! Lord Death himself is attending – !" He pointed blandly to the side, where the Death God waved his comically large white hands at the crowd," – and I would like to remind you all to be on your best behavior. Just because you're wearing a mask doesn't mean _I don't know who you are._" His piercing stare cut through all of them, landing on one person in particular, who huffed haughtily and stuck his nose in the air.

Soul noticed dryly it was Black Star; not only because his mask was in the _shape_ of a star and had a ghastly amount of glitter on it but because, like him, his electric blue hair stuck out.

He tuned the rest of Stein's speech out and wandered toward the snack table, peering into the bowl of punch and catching flecks of dust swirling within the sweet concoction. He grimaced and turned away, convinced that if he took one swallow of that, he'd be down for the count and Maka would have him hung by his balls for getting high; however unintentional it _could_ have been.

_Maka... I haven't seen her yet. _Soul searched the room for his meister. She had come earlier; something about fixing herself up at Tsubaki's place and arriving here for some last-minute preparations. She had threatened him with obliterating his Xbox and all his games if he decided not to show up. After a few minutes of contemplating where he could hide his precious game console without Maka knowing where it was, he decided it wasn't worth the effort (she'd kick his ass, anyway) and shrugged on his suit and dragged himself to the party. He had a mission to complete, anyway.

But now came the issue of _finding_ her. It was a little rule that no one was to remove their mask during the party, not until midnight, so he was on his own. He couldn't sense souls without resonating with Maka, which made things infinitely harder for him, but he had an eye for detail and he counted on it to be able to discern Maka from a crowd of strangers.

He scanned the crowd, dismissing various girls instantly, and he found her, shockingly, by the shape of her ass. Not that he would ever tell her how he recognized her because he was _sure _she'd accidentally kill him with a textbook if he _ever_ told her. He blamed it on the fact that he always had a view of it whenever he was in weapon form.

Just to make sure, his eyes flashed to her hair, a distinctive shade of ashy blonde, and to her left calve, where, when he tilted his head, he caught the faint shine of a scar she had gotten while fighting a witch a year ago. It had been a deep wound, needing nine stitches, but she hadn't been too concerned with the sudden imperfection of her legs. She had been more annoyed with the fact that she had given the witch such a wide opening. Maka had trained vigorously for a whole month after that.

He would know: he woke up sore for a whole two weeks straight.

Soul glided through the crowd, his eyes fixed upon the bare back of his meister. The dress was an inky jade; wrapping around her body tightly. It ended by her knee; a sash of black tied around her waist and knotting on her back in a thick bow. Her hair was loose for the occasion; curls of blonde running down her shoulders.

A smirk curled his lips.

Just because everyone knew who he was didn't mean he couldn't have any fun with this anonymity. He glanced at the middle of the ballroom, the couples that circled each other following the soft rhythm of the quartet. He usually wasn't one for dancing but, he decided, tonight he wouldn't necessarily be Soul Eater Evans; he could be _anyone_...

At least until midnight.

And this was _just_ the situation he needed to finally take their partnership to the next level.

He sidled up next to her, Maka knowing who he was immediately by his wavelength, and whispered into her ear daringly: "Nice dress."

"Soul!" Maka exclaimed, turning to face him. The mask covered only half her face. Regardless, her emerald eyes stuck out through the eye holes. "You came! Good! I thought I'd have to drag you out of the house!"

"Soul? I'm not Soul." He innocently said, and Maka faltered; actually flinching back. He was both satisfied and disgruntled she had believed him so easily.

"No, you _are _Soul! Your wavelength—!"

Soul pressed a hand over her mouth, leaning in with that same bold edge. "We're not supposed to know who the other is, remember? Let's pretend you don't know who I am, and I don't know who you are." Soul whispered, slowly removing his palm from her lip glossed lips when he saw she was cooperating. "We're just a bunch of strangers, and I'm a nameless guy who's asking you out to dance. What do you say?"

She smiled. "I... I say sure! But I have to warn you: I can't waltz."

He grinned. "No problem." He took her hand, sparing the girl beside her, who he immediately recognized as Tsubaki by the bright oceanic shine of her eyes and timid posture, a simple glance. "I'll lead."

In the midst of dancing couples, Soul felt he may even be able to score a _kiss_ from her. Although both were quite aware of the others identity, the disguise offered by the mask helped relieve some tension. Soul had absolutely no problem pretending he didn't know who was under the mask and, from what he could tell, Maka appeared to be deriving some fun from this activity as well.

"You're pretty good at this, stranger." Maka giggled.

"You're not too bad yourself." He cringed when she stepped on his foot. "Or not."

"I _told_ you I wasn't a good dancer!" Maka mumbled, glad the mask obscured half her face and hid her pink cheeks.

"Practice makes perfect." Soul coolly said, just as the song stopped and another began. He looked at her and noticed she was standing farther away than normal. "What're you doing all the way over there? No wonder you keep stepping on my foot! Come closer – I don't bite." He smirked, revealing a sharp tooth. "Much."

Maka made a noise of displeasure when he pulled her closer to him, adjusting her posture and hands properly. "Geez, Soul, I get it! I was doing it wrong—!"

"Soul? Who's this cool guy you speak of?" Soul feigned ignorance.

Maka's annoyance was replaced with laughter. "Right. _Sorry_. You just remind me of him a lot!"

"I do?" Soul asked, tone full of mocking interest. "How so?"

"You're really cool." Maka stifled laughter when she caught his eyes rolling. "And you seem like a really nice guy – the type who would never hurt his friends... or cheat on his partner." Maka muttered the last part, having caught her papa's cheesy grin as he talked up a busty girl by the snack table.

"You know what?" Soul said, catching her attention again. "You remind me of someone, too."

"I do?"

"Yeah – she's this really cool girl I met a few years ago. She's nosy, stubborn, and she can be a huge nerd at times." He grinned at her glare. "She likes hitting her _friends _with _textbooks _when they piss her off, but she's probably the most amazing and courageous girl I've ever met. She's beyond cool," he added, watching her visible features freeze at his words.

"She... sounds like a really great girl." Maka rasped.

His smile was soft. "She is."

"Well—!" Maka pressed her lips together stubbornly. "The guy I know is even more amazing than that girl!"

"I don't believe you." Soul deadpanned.

"He _is_! He's the sweetest, kindest, and strongest person I know!" Maka hotly said, and Soul felt his throat constrict at those words. "He's really talented but he's lazy and likes wasting time playing video games instead of doing homework... but he always finds time to help me out when I need it! He can get himself down a lot at times, and he can be a total _ass _when he feels like it...but he's the only person I've ever really trusted. He's the only person who'd I give anything to save if it came down to it." Maka quietly said. "He's... beyond cool, too."

They had both stopped waltzing. Amongst the crowd of twirling pairs, they both stood still with barely a foot of space between them. The masks that hid their identities had done their job: they had both admitted things they would have otherwise never voiced.

"Maka..."

"I-I'm not Maka, remember?" Maka whispered, eyes glued to the floor. "I'm just a nameless girl who danced with you."

There was a pause, contemplative but understanding, before she felt his hands push her mask up on her face.

"W-wait! What are you doing—?"

"What those retarded guys in stupid romance novels do after they spill their guts out to the girl." Soul muttered, somewhat embarrassed. He steeled his resolve, making his intentions clear when he cupped her cheek. "Only in a cooler way." He added, and pressed his lips against hers before she could protest.

It was chaste; short enough for him to relay his point, yet long enough to satisfy some of his burning desires for the time being.

Breathless, Maka gasped: "I...just kissed a stranger!"

Soul smirked, tasting her strawberry lip gloss. "How do you feel? I do this all the time—OUCH! I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Soul hissed, holding his head protectively before she decided to elbow him again. "Take a joke, stranger, I'm full of them." He scathingly said.

Maka pushed her mask up, revealing annoyed emerald eyes and flushed cheeks.

Soul mocked a gasp, smirk still playing on his lips. He liked the dazed look in her eye. "Maka! It was you all along! I should have known – only _you_ can hit that hard and not cause brain damage!"

"Not funny, you jerk." Maka muttered, yanking her mask back down. She had noticed, between their standing around and Soul's unexpected kiss, that the songs had grown slower; more intended for couples. Her lips tingled, and her face darkened in color as she tried to keep herself collected. "I...L-let's go. I don't want to dance anymore!" Maka hastily said, making a beeline for the snack table when he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Funny how when I actually want to dance, you don't." Soul mused, keeping her in place. He had expected this: her running away, embarrassed by her own emotions. He had found a solution for it, too, one sleepless night. "This is the only night I'll _ever _dance with you. Dancing isn't cool."

"Oh, fine!" Maka stubbornly exclaimed. She faced him and placed her hand rigidly on his shoulder. "But just one more dance! I have to go check something—in the back!" She lied.

He snorted and sang, "You're doing it wrong," only more amused when Maka's brows creased and she reached up to push her mask away again. "Those romance novels you read end with the girl confessing her undying love for the retarded and possibly gay love interest. I'd get to it, if I were you."

She stared, shocked, before laughter bubbled up her throat. Maka ducked her head and laughed, pressing a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Emotion swelled in her chest; this was turning out to be a fantastic night. "I'm guessing... we're not strangers anymore?"

"Only if you want us to be." Soul smirked.

Maka shot him a look and reached up to push his own mask off his face. Her fingers brushed down his defined cheekbone, the pale skin that appeared flawless under the glittering light of the room. His hand fell from her waist and wrapped around her wrist instead. Her fingers found his and tangled together instantly.

This was the moment he had been waiting for, and the moment she had both secretly craved and feared.

Taking a strengthening breath, Maka said: "Soul, I—!"

"Masks on at _all _times!" Sid shouted, strangling the words in Maka's throat and making Soul glare brutally at the undead teacher for ruining the moment he had painstakingly set up for days. "There's no removing masks until midnight! Telling it how it is was the kind of man I used to be!"

"You know what kind of man you _could_ be?" Soul cuttingly said. "Not a total douche—!"

"SORRY SID-SENSEI!" Maka apologized over Soul's cursing, shoving his mask back on and adjusting her own. "We—his mask was looking a little weird so I was fixing it!" Maka hastily lied.

"Hm. I'll accept that." Sid agreed, eying the both of them. "Oh, yes, Maka. Stein requires your assistance in the back: it seems a student miscalculated the amount of refreshments for tonight and we're leftover with more than a dozen extra bottles of soda."

"Oh, okay." Maka swallowed, fidgeting. She was sure she'd die of embarrassment if she didn't leave _now_. "I'll be there in a second."

Sid nodded, stalking back into the crowd and keeping his eyes open for any more students who dared to remove their mask before the marked time.

"I-I guess I better get going." Maka stiffly said, after a short silence. "Professor Stein probably needs help storing the bottles in the storage room for next time..."

"Yeah." Soul coolly said, slouching. He was careful to keep his disappointment and rage out of his voice. "Hey, save a bottle, would you? We ran out yesterday."

"Okay. I'll—I'll see you later, Soul." Maka hesitated before hurrying toward the back.

Soul stared after her, blankly.

"Yo, Soul!" Kilik slid next to him. "Saw you talking up that tall chick. Nice, man. You score tonight?"

"Almost." Soul blandly said. "And that tall chick was Maka."

Kilik choked on his spit, staring wide-eyed at him. "Dude, you _kissed _her!"

"You saw that?" Soul asked, not fazed by his sputtering. "Yeah. That rotting piece of a meat got in the way."

Kilik gave him a scrutinizing look before grinning. "Oh, yeah, Sid's been going around cock blocking everyone – you should've seen how pissed Ox got when Sid told him to step away from Kim!"

"He actually got that far?" Soul snorted.

"I know, right?" Kilik snickered. "You'd think Kim would have better taste. Like me."

"Screw off, you're worse than Ox!" Soul laughed at Kilik's mock-offended look. "Hey, when's this thing gonna' end?"

"I dunno'. Midnight?" Kilik shrugged. Something caught his eye because he paused and slicked his hair back. "Hey, there's my catch of the night. I'll call you later, man. Good luck with Maka! You'll get there soon!" He winked, earning an arrogantly arched brow from Soul.

"What if I told you we're already there and she's just playing hard to get?"

"Then I'd say you're a liar, Eater, 'cause anyone within a five mile radius can see you're ready to jump her for a good five hours."

Soul glowered. "Asshole."

Kilik shot him a thumbs up. "Just doin' my job."

* * *

**A/N: **I like Kilik. I think he needs more screen-time xD

_Note: requested by **Psycho Passion Fruit. **That's a cool name, by the way._

_Scarlett._


	20. Chapter 20

**You Know You Trust Your Partner...  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

_...when you believe she'll make it through the night._

* * *

"Don't touch me." Soul hissed at Marie, who froze mid-way placing a comforting hand upon his shoulder. He said nothing else and put a foot of space between them, glaring at the wall opposite to him. His silvery hair was in disarray; messier than usual, falling over his eyes haphazardly from the many times he had run his fingers through the strands in distress. Dark crescents took residence under his eyes, indicating his lack of rest, and his skin held a sickly pale pallor to it; worsened under the harsh, white, lighting of Patchwork Laboratory.

"Soul... sweetheart, please, it's three in the morning." Marie quietly pleaded, the laboratory silent at this time of night. If it became silent enough, one could hear the soft _click _of a scalpel hitting against metal that came from Professor Stein's ominously dark room. "I'm sure Maka—Maka will be okay. She wouldn't want you to—!"

"_Shut up_, you wouldn't know what she would want! I'm her partner – _I _would know." Soul nastily replied, casting her withering look. "Leave me alone. Your concern over me won't help in anything."

"I..." Marie quiveringly began but hung her head when she realized nothing she said would soothe the agony he was in. She stood up silently and walked into the kitchen, leaving Soul alone in the brightly lit living room.

This was his fault.

He clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking. They were dirty, caked with her blood. The majority of his clothes were spattered with her blood but he refused to change_. _He refused to leave her alone for a single second.

He had been hasty; he had failed in his duty to protect his meister. Although Maka struggled to keep him out of danger, Soul knew she wouldn't be able to do that for long. There would be times when risking ones skin was necessary and he would first take the knife in the heart than allow his meister to be hurt. He would fulfill his duty as a weapon first and foremost.

But he hadn't; not this time.

* * *

_Maka grabbed the little boy by the shoulder and shook him, startling him out of his terror. She shouted for him to run, to get out of the fray, and gave him a rough shove forward, watching him sprint away down the street as if the devil himself were on his heels. _

"_Soul—!"_

"_Now!" Soul shouted, but she wasn't ready, and when he transformed to fall into her hand, she barely caught him. By the time Soul realized Maka was still reeling from nearly shedding innocent blood, the Kishin roared and bared its teeth in fury. _

"_MOVE, YOU IDIOT!" Soul bellowed, diverging out of his scythe to block the attack even if it meant his arm would be mutilated by the beast._

"_No! - DON'T __GO BEING A HERO AGAIN!" Maka shrieked, and pushed him out of the way. He saw it with terrible clarity: the way the beast sunk its teeth into her neck like an animal and the way her mouth opened in a silent scream._

* * *

Apathetically, he glanced down at his hands.

He rubbed his fingers, watching her blood turn into coppery dust right before his eyes.

* * *

"_Maka—shit, Ma-ka!" Soul's voice cracked in his panic, as she gurgled blood. Her hands clutched her brutalized neck, eyes revealing her terrified panic as she struggled to breathe. She couldn't breathe, he realized with mounting horror. "Maka...Maka, shit, no—Maka!" He reached forward impulsively and helped staunch the wound on her neck with his hands, feeling hot blood gush through his fingers._

_There was too much of it._

* * *

Abruptly, he stood and walked to the door where he knew Maka was being kept. Casting a cautious glance over his shoulder, as Stein had warned him of not entering Maka's room yet, Soul carefully turned the knob and shifted inside.

He closed it behind him as silently as possible, stilling for a moment and, once he was sure no one had heard him, slowly looked toward where Maka was being kept.

Under the opaque light of the moon, she appeared corpse white. Her lips chapped, her eyes closed, skin stretched taut across bony cheekbones, Soul swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at how utterly hopeless she appeared.

On her neck, layers and layers of gauze wound around, red bleeding through the white. She would need to be changed out of her bandages soon. Scratches were apparent on her pale skin, across her elbows and hands and thighs, he knew, because she had slid along the gravelly floor when the kishin leaped on her.

* * *

"_Maka!" Kim whispered, frantically, as she finished her healing spell. She helped her sit up, pushing her head to the side so she could spit out the blood that had pooled in her mouth. "Maka, look at me – you've lost too much blood. I'm going to call Dr. Stein and tell him to have blood bags set ahead for you. What's your blood type?"_

"_O positive." Soul replied for her, hoarsely. _

_Kim looked at Soul, who was staring, pale-faced and blank, at his meister. "Soul, I need you to carry her back while I call Stein – can you – ?" But Soul was already taking her from Kim's arms, ignoring the way he heard blood splat beneath him. He didn't wait for Kim as he ran._

* * *

He had never run as fast as he did that day, his mind abuzz with her name and only her name, he remembered.

By the time he made it to Stein, the doctor had prepared for a blood transfusion and he took her from his arms wordlessly. But he still saw it, under the sticky blood and dirt: the indents of sharp teeth that racked down delicate skin and sunk deeper than a knife, the bloodred that had begun to break through the feebly thin web of skin Kim had managed to recreate over the wound in her haste.

His fingers brushed over Maka's cheek, resting against the cold skin. Stein had said nothing, even after they had her relocated to his laboratory for surgery. He had walked out of the room, slipping his bloody gloves off and tossing them into the nearby trashcan without so much as a blink.

He had crowded around him, desperate for answers, and had only been rewarded with a vague, _"We'll see in the morning", _which made his stomach plummet and his face turn paper white. Nothing good ever came out of such a reply.

"Wake up." Soul whispered, pressing his hand against her cheek. "You better wake up, Maka, or I swear I'll... I'll fail all my classes at Shibusen and ruin your record." He emptily threatened. She didn't so much as twitch. He had never wanted her to hit him with her book so much as he did in those moments.

He heard the door open behind him but he ignored it, caressing her cheek with his hand again.

"Soul?" Marie's small voice reached him. "Would you like some tea? It's quite chilly tonight..."

"...No, thanks."

"Oh. Well...I-I'll leave it right here just in case." Marie hastily said, and placed the cup on the table beside Maka's bed. "Ah..." Marie sounded as if she wanted to say something before she shook her head and gave a pained smile Soul didn't acknowledge. "Maka is a strong girl. I know she'll pull through – I just know it! Stein is one of the best doctors I know, even if he's a little sadistic, but I'm positive he did all he could to save her! She—she'll be fine." Her voice cracked. "I know she will...but if she isn't—!"

"She _will_." Soul fiercely said, startling her. "She's not gonna' die. She _can't_. She still has to train me – she won't leave me half-finished. She'll wake up." He added, confidently. He purposely ignored Marie's pitying gaze. "She'll _wake up._"

"Yes...of course." Marie glanced at the ajar door, where she could see Stein through the slit. She saw him beckon her over with a finger and she nodded. "Well, try to get some rest, Soul. I've laid out some blankets in the living room since Stein doesn't have an extra room. You can sleep on the couch when you get tired. Okay?"

He didn't reply.

"Okay." Marie struggled to keep her voice light. She slid out of the room and Soul silently walked to the door when he was sure she had left. Marie hadn't closed the door totally so he stood broodingly by it, listening to their whispered conversation with rapt attention.

"...assuming she makes it through the night, the next few days will be hard for her." Stein stated, passionless. "It tore up her jugular – it's a miracle Kim had gone with them or Maka wouldn't have made it. Kim managed to heal most of the damage done to her artery before the bacteria stalled her spell, but what really concerns me is how much blood she lost during that time..."

"But, the blood bags...you preformed a blood transfusion, right? She should be fine..."

"Her body may reject the blood." Stein casually said. Marie gasped. "Some of the kishin's saliva entered her blood stream and it's making it difficult for her body to heal itself. If her body can't combat the intrusive bacteria, she may die of exsanguination - among other things." He added.

"E-exsanguination?"

"Essentially, bleeding to death. As I said before, the bacteria in the kishin's saliva is making it difficult for her body to coagulate blood, even if Kim managed to heal up most of her injury before the bacteria fully took over. If the blood does not coagulate, the wounds she bears will keep bleeding, until there's not enough blood in the body left to sustain itself. Because of it, I couldn't heal other internal injuries – the risk is too high. And, as it is, her body may reject the blood I gave her. That comes with it's own set of consequences, but it's the most I can do to keep her alive now."

"Dear lord, nononono..." Marie whispered frantically, pressing a hand over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head; terrified for her student. "S-Stein! You have to do something – you _have_ to – !"

"I've done all I can. Sadly, I've treated many meister's who have been injured similarly. I'm afraid to say it's often fatal." Stein took off his glasses, wiping the lens with the hem of his shirt. Marie released something of a cross between a cry and a whimper. "Especially with the amount of blood Maka lost prior to being healed by Kim, and the blood she is losing currently. If she's still alive by midday, there's a chance her body is combating the bacteria and she'll pull through."

"But if she doesn't... oh, god, _Soul_..."

Stein said nothing; merely gazed calculatingly at Marie's shaking frame. He reached out and patted her head, stilling when she gave a loud cry and lunged forward, catching him in a crushing embrace. Stein made no indication she was just about cracking his ribs: he rested his palm on her head and quietly allowed her time to mourn.

Soul was pale and wide-eyed, hand clamped over his mouth in horror. He didn't care if they knew he had eavesdropped: he slumped back against the door, slamming it shut. He slumped down to the floor, swallowing down the choke of emotions that spurned from the very bottom of his soul.

His eyes darted to Maka's bed, remembering the blood that he saw bleed through the white gauze. Her body wasn't closing up the wound, coagulating the blood, because of that beasts lethal saliva. If she didn't fight it, she would die. She had very little chance she would survive the night, with the pitiful amount of blood left in her body.

"Maka..."

She was dying.

_Hey. I can help her, you know._

Soul froze. How could he have forgotten?

_She's done for if you don't do something. Just leave it to me. I'll heal her for you – there are many ways to utilize the power of the Black Blood. Eliminating the disease that's poisoned her blood would be a piece of cake for me._

Soul was tempted. He stared at Maka, her unmoving frame, the way her skin seemed to be losing its color the more time ticked by, and returned his attention to the little beast that dwelled in his subconscious.

_Just give me the word and I'm there..._

But he knew the risks, and it was a risk he wasn't willing to take; a risk Maka would never want him to take.

"...No." Soul hoarsely said, the hardest decision he had ever made.

_No? What do you mean 'no'? You want to let her DIE, you stupid brat? Oh, no, wait, I see now. That's how much you care for her, is it? Not even enough to save her from certain death – some partner you are!_

"You piece of shit, you know exactly what would happen if I said yes to you." Soul hissed harshly, voice thickening. "I'm not abandoning my reason to save her. That'll get us nowhere – I'll lose it, and you'll drag her down with me. And you _know_ it, you fucker."

_...Humph. Well, no matter. She's your lady._

Soul didn't reply. He stared at a corner of her bed, unwilling to get a wink of sleep as long as her life hung in the balance. But the monster in his head was right: if he didn't do something, _anything_, she would die. The image of the soaked-red gauze flashed behind the lids of his eyes and he buried the heels of his palm into them to rid himself of the mental picture. That seemed to be the tipping point; what convinced him to seek other options, even if it meant losing his sanity to save her.

"Let's say," Soul softly began, bumping his head against the wood of the door. "Let's say I _do _use the black blood to save her. What's the catch?"

_Oh? Interested NOW, are you?_

"Answer me!"

_Well, of course, I'm not asking for much.__ J__ust a little free time, you know?_

"You're gonna' have to elaborate, you bastard." Soul harshly chuckled. "Quit playing around. What do you want?"

_You're no fun. Well, I want your body. _

"Heh, who doesn't?" Soul humored, painfully. "My body. You want complete control."

_Yes._

"How about..._no,_ and I just use the black blood?" Soul suddenly said. "It's my blood, right? I can do whatever the hell I want with it."

_Wh-what? You stinking brat! NO! IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY! YOU CAN'T EXPECT ME TO SAVE HER AT NO COST—!_

"Oh, you will." Soul cuttingly said, suddenly struck with an idea. The idea made a grin blossom on his face; made his confidence swell obscenely. "You _will_ because you need me, remember? If she _dies _then I go _with _her and _you _do, too!"

_...You can't be serious. That's your big threat? Killing yourself?_

It sounded unnerved despite trying to act nonchalant.

Soul grinned, rather maniacally. "I'm as serious as I can get. If she dies, I'm dying with her. I rule over you – there's nothing you can do if I decide to go get myself killed." His grin grew a little more. "You feel it, right? I'm not kidding. You _know_ it. Unless you gotta' a death wish, too, I'd obey me if I were you..."

_Okay, okay! Relax. Let's all take some deep breaths here - no need to get hasty! Let me get this straight: if I decide not to help her, you're committing suicide?_

"Yeah."

_But if I help her... you live and it's back to square one for me?_

"Basically."

There was a strained silence where the rustling curtains from the window and the soft sobs of Marie were the only things seeping through the room, until the little demon spoke once more, sounding surly.

_Tch. I see. I'll get you one day, Evans, one day. But that day isn't today. _

Soul smirked.

_Alright, get your ass up and go over to her – quickly, her wavelength is weakening as we speak. _

Soul hastily stood up and ran to her side, leaning over her uneasily.

_Now, force resonance with her. I'll handle the rest._

"No fast ones, alright?" Soul warned, pressing his forehead against Maka's. "Or else I'll burn you to hell and back with her Anti-Magic Wavelength. I know you hate that."

_Yes, yes, I'm aware. Now shut up and do it already! Before I decide dying is the lesser of the two evils!_

Soul grunted and closed his eyes, forcing a resonance with her soul. The next time he opened them, he was sitting in a cushioned armchair within the confinement of the Black Room. His eyes darted around the room, to the phonograph that was silent; the velvety curtains that were still; the spotlight that made the polished checkered tiles glimmer brightly enough to sting his eyes.

"She'll live."

Soul snapped his head to the little demon that sat demurely atop of a piece of furniture, his long arms crossed over his chest in displeasure. "The black blood is flowing through her veins as we speak and healing all the damage. Of course, her Anti-Magic Wavelength is slowing things down but as long as you don't stop resonating, the black blood will continuously flow into her until all of her injuries are healed. This may take some time, but she'll live."

His shoulders relaxed and he weakly slumped into his chair, breathing out in relief. She was alive; she would live. That was all that mattered to him.

The Ogre watched him, hawk-like. "Does she mean that much to you? That girl?"

"Asking dumb questions again, huh?" Soul taunted. "I wouldn't be risking my skin right now by using the black blood if she didn't. What about you? You don't look like you like her much, aren't you supposed to be apart of me?" He asked, suspiciously.

"Apart of you, yes, but I don't share the same infatuation with her as you do." Little Ogre replied, smoothly. "I respect her, if at all. She _was_ the one who allowed you to go crazy for a day." He shrewdly added.

"Guess that's better than nothing." Soul muttered, glancing up at the black ceiling. It seemed to go on indefinitely. "How long's this gonna' take again?"

"Soon." Little Ogre replied, absently. He was now holding a glass of wine, Soul saw. "She's healing up nicely although that nut Stein is in the room now."

"What? Stein's watching? Shit!" Soul swore, hoping the professor wouldn't interfere. He wasn't against _hurting_ him if he tried to prevent him from healing Maka, but...

"Calm down, boy." Little Ogre boredly said, taking a swing of his wine. "He's merely watching. He appears interested in what's happening, which is the rapid healing of her body. He won't interfere." He took another swing, longer this time, and Soul wondered if he was drinking out his misery, when he suddenly said: "Finished."

"Maka's healed?" Soul paused. "What about her blood? She lost a lot of blood, right?"

"Yes." Little Ogre nodded. "Her Anti-Magic Wavelength will purify the black blood that has replaced the quantity she lost in her veins by tomorrow... pity. But she's all healed up and ready to go." Deflated, he waved spindly fingers toward the formidable door of the Black Room. "Now, scram. She's all nice and healthy again, no need to get yourself killed as you so-eloquently allowed me see. Christ, boy, no need to kill yourself in such _gruesome_ manners...there _are _simpler ways."

Soul smirked, standing up from his chair. He adjusted his tie smugly. "If I was gonna' go, I wanted to go with a _bang_." He waved, one had slipped into his pocket. "See ya' around."

Little Ogre took another long swing of wine before the Black Room deteriorated around Soul and he found himself staring into puzzled emerald eyes in the next instant.

"Soul?" Maka hoarsely asked.

"Maka!" Soul grinned, pressing a hand against her cheek in excitement. It felt warm, and he saw some color had returned to her face. His relief skyrocketed. "You're awake! And – !" His eyes strayed down to her neck, to the bandages that were soaked red now. He spotted black but he ignored it. "Your wounds should be healed... does anything hurt?"

"N-no..." Maka cleared her throat, confused. "What—what happened? Where am I?"

"Stein's lab. You—were attacked by the kishin we were sent to kill." Soul explained, somewhat reluctantly. "I forced resonance with you and had the black blood heal you – " At her wide-eyed look, he quickly added: "No cost. I struck a bargain with the demon and let's just say he didn't like the outcome if he rejected it..."

"So that means..." Maka struggled to sit up and Soul helped her, watching her press a hand against her neck. Her eyes strayed up and landed on Stein. "Professor! What are you doing here?"

"You're awake." Stein said, sounding intrigued. "That was an interesting technique there, Soul."

"Yeah, well, you said she wouldn't last through the night." Soul didn't look when Maka sucked in a sharp gasp. "I had to do something. I wasn't gonna' sit around and watch my meister _die _like you were."

A ghost of a smile flitted past Stein's face at his words. "I'll inform Marie of this sudden development – she's holed herself up in my room, you see, and it's very disconcerting. I must finish my research..." Stein walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Soul stared at the door until Maka hissed: "_Watch me die? _I was going to_ die? _Soul, what the hell happened while I was out?"

"I told you already – you got attacked by the kishin. It tore up your neck, don't you remember?"

"No..." Maka mumbled, troubled. "I just remember Kim telling me to sit up... then nothing." Maka touched her neck, the gauze, and Soul watched silently as she began to tear off the bandages to no avail.

"Here, stupid, let me." A blade manifested from below his arm and he sliced through the fabric cleanly. He tossed the bandages to the floor carelessly until there was nothing around her neck. His blade receded back into his body and Maka flinched when she felt his fingers graze her neck, press against the pulse of her heart on her neck. "Scar..." He whispered, more to himself than Maka.

"Scar? I have a scar on my neck?" She asked, alarmed, and pushed his hand away. Soul watched her hop off the bed, padding to the mirror. She frowned when she couldn't see and gasped when Soul switched on the lights, the bright light hurting her eyes. But now she could see her neck, the marks that ran down it nastily. Her fingers tremulously touched them, the ragged marks, but felt no pain.

"That bastard!" Soul snarled, once he got a good look at the gruesome evidence of her heroism. "He said you'd be healed—I knew he was going to do _something! _Damn it—!"

"No." Maka whispered, silencing him. "It's okay." She turned and smiled, somewhat pained. "We—we match now? See?" She pulled her gown down lower: the ragged marks reached down to her collar bone.

"Don't say that!" Soul snapped, striding over to her. She saw his eyes had became a dark burgundy; boiling with rage. "You wouldn't have that on your neck if you hadn't thrown me away! What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't just throw yourself in front of me like that – _it's MY duty as your weapon to protect you and I CAN'T DO THAT IF YOU'RE TRYING TO SAVE ME!_"

"I'm NOT going to let you get hurt again!" Maka savagely retorted, also on the verge of screaming. "I promised you that I'd get stronger so that _this_ didn't happen – !"

"I don't give a _fuck_ – no one said that the road to getting stronger wasn't dangerous! You're the meister – it's your job to defeat the enemy, not let it win by default! You're so retarded! It doesn't even make any sense – why would you kill yourself for your _weapon?_" He frustratedly shouted, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. "_Why _do you have to be so _stupid_?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE MY _PARTNER_ AND YOU CAN'T DIE!" Maka shrieked, voice cracking. "You can't die, Soul, you _can't._"

"So that means you _can_?"

Maka hesitated.

He rolled his eyes to heavenward, as if not believing someone _this _stubborn existed, before she was swept up into his arms. He turned her toward the mirror again and she watched her own frozen expression reflect against the glass. His was stern, staring into her eyes unflinchingly. She saw his hand rest carefully on the juncture of her shoulder and neck, fingers grazing the uneven skin where the beasts teeth had torn in.

"You almost died today." Soul coldly stated. She stiffened. "If I hadn't resonated with you, you would have died – _look at me –_ and the only reason that stupid demon agreed to this was because if you died, I was going with you." He continued, unconcerned by her horrified look. "Get it? You die, I die. So quit putting yourself in danger – let me handle that."

"No! That's not fair!" Maka steeled her voice. "Then if _you_ die, _I _die, too!"

Soul scoffed, derisively. "Don't be an idiot. You can't. You have too much to live for."

"You do, too! You have Black Star and Kid and your _family –_ !"

"I can leave those things behind, as long as I die with the knowledge that my meister will _live_." Soul icily stated, causing her insides to frost at his logic. "But can_ you?_"

Maka parted her lips, ready to rebuff his words, but nothing came out; only a wheeze of air. She stared, watery-eyed but determined, into cold and calculative red eyes that spoke the truth in his words. He could let go of everything; he could die without feeling regretful. But could she? Could she pass away with the knowledge that she'll never see her mama again? Her papa? Tsubaki, Liz, Patty, her friends? Could she pass away with the knowledge that Soul would be meister-less, that she had _failed_ in training him to his fullest potential, as she promised?

Could she leave everything behind for him...?

"I...can."

"Liar." Soul sneered. His fingers dug into the tender, ravaged, flesh of her neck. "You can't. Do you get it now? It's not only my duty as your weapon that binds me to this, it's the fact that I can _let go _but you can't."

"Yes, I can!" Maka stubbornly fought, squirming to face him. She pressed her face against his chest, where she knew his scar lay, and squeezed her eyes shut. "I can... I was _ready_. If I had to die, that was the best way I could die!" Her voice dipped; rushed and uneven. "I would die for you, Soul. You're the only person I'd die for..."

He gazed down at her then rose his eyes to the mirror, which revealed her shaking shoulders. She was crying now. He felt guilty; it hadn't been his intention to make her cry but now matters had become complicated. She was bent on saving him from his own blunders; of having her life stolen away because he slipped up. He was determined to protect her even if it meant losing his soul in the process.

"We're both hopeless, you know that?" Soul heaved a sigh, wrapping his arms around her small frame and pressing his lips against the marks on her neck in defeat. "Can't live with each other, can't live without each other. Man, this is so uncool... we're gonna' have to work something out." He smiled, morbidly. "I take Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays to kill myself when you're in danger and you take the rest?"

"...No way," Maka mumbled into his shirt. "You get more days than I do..."

Soul burst out laughing, his laughter slowly rising in volume the longer they stood together. Soon she was laughing, too, with the wondrous thought that they were both insane for making this out to be a laughing matter. Perhaps it was the pressure, the knowledge that she had nearly lost her life, or the overall gruesome situation they had been placed in, that had fried their nerves and caused them to lapse into temporary insanity. But the insanity was welcomed if it made everything appear less grave and dangerous.

"What's so funny? I want in on the joke, too." Professor's Stein said from the doorway.

Soul's swallowed his laughter, noticing Marie stood paces behind of Stein, clutching her hands to her chest. She looked like she had been crying half the night.

"Sorry, doc, inside joke." Soul breezily stated, dropping an arm from around his meister but leaving one draped over her shoulder protectively. She didn't seem to mind, watching Marie draw timidly closer to her.

"Maka?" Marie tremulously said. "Are you really okay?"

"Yep!" Maka beamed, pointing to her neck. "Look! I'm as good as new thanks to Soul! It's all closed up now! See?"

"Oh, _Maka!_" Marie wailed, and flung herself onto the girl. Maka caught her unsteadily, laughing as she patted her back and the woman cried into her chest. Soul smiled wryly at the emotional Deathscythe. Before long, Marie having cried herself out, she reluctantly detached herself from Maka and dragged herself back to Stein's side, sagging against him.

"Huh, so that's how you tire her out. Crying." Stein airily commented, not making a move to support her; she seemed to be doing fine by herself. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get her to bed at night – she's like a hyperactive five year old. Can't stay still for longer than ten minutes."

Maka smiled cheerfully. Soul rolled his eyes.

"Stein, out." Marie rasped, pushing him out. "It's time for bed – it's seven in the morning! Maka, you, bed, now – Soul, the goes the same for you!"

"What? What's the point? It's already morning—!"

"NOW!" Marie growled, scaring him. Soul edged Maka closer to him, muttering from the corner of his mouth: "Hey, it's Sunday, your turn to die for me..."

Maka stifled giggles in her hand.

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll have him in bed soon!" Maka promised, watching both her teachers exit the room; Stein half-dragging an exhausted Marie behind him. Maka turned to Soul, sternly. "You heard her – go to bed! It's morning and you haven't slept at all, have you?"

"What's the _point?_" Soul yawned, crossing his arms behind his head. "It's already morning. Might as well hold out til night." He glanced down at his clothes, rusty with blood. "'Sides, I need a shower. I stink."

Maka wrinkled her nose, also running her eyes down his filthy clothes. "You're right. Ew. I can't believe I hugged you like that." She dusted the front of her gown with a frown. "Now _I_ want to shower."

"Whatever, I'm taking one first." Soul pivoted on his heel, heading toward the door. "If you're still awake, you can take one, too. Man, Stein better not have any of that hospital soap, or I'm gonna' be pissed...that crap makes my skin feel dry..."

"Soul, I love you."

Soul stilled by the door, hands still crossed behind his neck. He tiled his head to the side the slightest bit but made no other move. Then he tossed his head back and craned his neck so he could see her. He shot her a sharp-toothed grin. "Yeah, I know. I don't think anyone would die for me if they didn't."

"W-wait... then, do you...?" Maka uncertainly trailed off, shifting her weight to her other foot.

"Yeah... I love you, too." Soul mumbled, pink-faced. "Sometimes." He snickered when he heard her growl. "I'm kidding. I don't die for just anyone, you know." He kicked the door open, stepping out into the brightly lit hall of the laboratory. He turned to her, smiling lopsidedly as he always did. "I figure we could be hopeless together, right?"

Maka smiled back, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest. "Y-yeah..."

"Great." Soul yawned. "I'll be back in twenty. Try not to miss me too much." And he disappeared, leaving Maka with her own jumbled thoughts.

She sat on her bed, slightly dazed her unexpected – and definitely _unplanned_ – confession had been dealt with and accepted so easily, before falling back onto the hard mattress. The morning light had slithered its way into the patient room, illuminating the glossy walls and vanquishing the night shadows that lingered in crevasses and nooks. It would seem another bright and shining day was on its way.

She curled on her side, closing her eyes and promising herself she'd wake up once Soul came out of his shower.

Instead, she was roused from her sleep by his minty breath near her cheek, the feathering words "_go back to sleep_" and the soft press of his lips against the corner of her mouth.

She decided a little nap couldn't hurt – not as long as he laid beside her the entire time because today was Sunday and she had to make sure nothing happened to him until midnight.

* * *

**A/N: **...what is this? It's so – so _romantic _and _fluffy –_ fluffy enough to rot your teeth! Fluffy enough to become your next favorite pillow! Fluffy enough to stuff _animals!_

I sorta' want to end this series with this last one-shot. It seems like a good closing, ya' know? They admitted their feelings and they live happily ever after until Soul forgets to turn off the stove and their dinner burns.

There's only one way to decide: who wants me to continue this collection or who's gotten bored of hearing from me and wants it to end it? The choice is yours.

_Note: requested by **Waterdog.**_

_Scarlett._


End file.
